Personalities
by Person With Many Aliases
Summary: Personalities and Premises across the worlds of Vetus and Magicus. For Fun and Instruction.
1. Raidou Kuzunoha the 17th

A/N: I felt like sharing. It was inevitable.

Anyways, read it as you will, just Original Characters/Retooled Crossovers, scenes, and perhaps Premises. I have a lot of ideas, all the time, but I have priorities on stories that need to be finished. Actually, those stories SHOULD be getting worked on, but I need to ease myself back into this whole "writing often" thing...

* * *

**Person With Many Aliases presents:**

"**Personalities"**

**Snapshots over Vetus and Magicus.**

"**Mahou Sensei Negima!" series property of Ken Akamatsu**

**Original Characters and Concepts property of author "Person With Many Aliases"**

**Further properties referenced, belong to likewise creators.**

* * *

**Raidou Kuzunoha the 17th**

* * *

Daigoro Shinji was nervous.

Kyoto had seen better days. More peaceful nights.

There used to be a time people were able to go out at night whenever they wished, with the silhouette of Kiyomizu temple in the distance, and going to and fro under the interplay of shadows and light seemed harmless.

That was before the first Skin Hater murder occurred. An ordinary man disappearing for an odd errand at eleven, body never discovered, save mutilated clothes and his... his...

...a massive gash in the back, while the rest of the skin was unblemished, flopped about in some back alley like a spent water bottle... no blood, no mess...

Not long after, and elder, then a mother, and it still continued.

The police were helpless.

_(The police are useless),_ Shinji rather thought, rather, saying what the newspaper were still too squeamish to all out accuse in his mind.

But victims were still appearing every once in a while, scaring the populace silly inside locked homes and out of the neighborhood to safer places. People heeded police warnings to stay off the streets at night, or at least go in large enough groups.

People were still disappearing. Some serial killer still on the loose.

And so Shinji was worried, trying to walk home. He really did try to heed the warnings of the curfew, why wouldn't he? But he spent too much time having fun at the arcade, and next thing he knew, nine 'o' clock.

His walk was brisk. After all, what could he do? He wasn't exactly an expert in self defense if it came to it. Nothing but his plain black high school uniform over top a skinny frame that was more into reading and the Internet than it was pursuing any sports. Sure maybe his close buzz-cut made him look a bit more tough, but that was it. He was still easy pickings as he marched home.

Alone.

No, not alone.

Shinji just knew it, a hunch of ill omen. Someone was watching him, ever since he left the arcade.

The silhouette of Kiyomizu seemed like a giant monster watching in the distance, and the interplay of street lamps and secluded corners only fingered out the high school student brightly as a target, while leaving monsters in the shadows.

Something was _watching _Shinji.

He swallowed. He walked faster. He had homework to do, after all.

He heard foot steps behind him. Curt and precise footsteps, with a sense of purpose, against the sound of his own rapid feet.

Following him... _Following him... prey._

Shinji choked, and bolted.

The precise feet behind him sped up as well.

"Wait!"

_(Oh, yeah right! Right I'm going to stop for a psycho killer...!)_

The boy powered through the streets of the city, his untempered body heaving so much oxygen as he forced himself forward, that he was unable to even get a chance to cry for help. He grabbed a corner of a wall to help swerve himself into a back alley that twisted between buildings and towards the roads.

He had to make it to the main streets, where perhaps there was a police patrol-

"Hee-ho! Right away boss!"

That was when Shinji slipped on a slick patch of ice.

The boy's utter shock was tempered finely with a sensation of pain as his foot twisted and his chest crashed onto the hard pavement, leaving him gasping with a lack of air and pain. Coughing, Shinji twisted around on the ground to finally see his assailant.

Coming out into the lamp was a boy probably only a little bit younger than Shinji himself. Fifteen? Sixteen?

Like him, this boy wore a close fit uniform that clung to his body, gray rather than black, and pristine black shoes. His head was covered by a smart cap, bits of black hair sticking out the back, the brim shadowing dark eyes. Overall he looked just as much like some kind of military officer as well as some school boy.

The boy pushed something back under his gray jacket, before zipping it up.

"Are you Daigoro Shinj?" He asked.

Shinji nervously jerked his head up and down, "W-What do you want?"

The boy pulled out a badge of some sort, "My name is Kuzunoha Raidou. I'm working with the police in regards to the recent rash of killings. You can think of me like a detective. I just need to ask you a few questions."

Shinji uneasily got to his feet and looked around. The detective boy's voice sounded nothing like that jingling, mischievous "Hee-ho!" from before.

"You're not alone, are you?"

"I am."

"No! I know there was some other voice around here! And the ice-!"

"I don't see any ice, sir."

"No! I swear! I slipped because-!"

Shinji looked down at his feet to find only gravel and concrete. Was he seeing things?

"Sir, I only saw you trip."

"Oh."

"Sir, if you're uneasy, I'm willing to escort you home. I only need one question."

Shinji swallowed, but managed to still himself well enough, "Alright... if it's just one question."

Raidou unearthed a small pad of paper and an attached pen. He stared at Shinji with pitiless black eyes.

"Sir, I need you to remember, last month, where you were on the 10th, between Six and Ten o'clock."

"Last month?" Shinji felt insulted, "Look, what's the point-"

"It's important to know these things, Daigoro-san."

Shinji snorted. Perhaps it was tensions running high, but he regardless snorted his answer, "I'm always at once place, it's the Arcade downtown, alright? The "Ultimate Game" place, alright?"

"That's the thing."

Shinji frowned, "What?"

The detective tapped his notepad, still staring dully, "I've spoken to a few other people about your movements, and they don't recall you visiting the arcade on that day. Your parents didn't see you at home until ten. No one else saw you during that time, so I need to ask you personally. Where were you during those four hours?"

That was when Daigoro Shinji hissed at Kuzunoha Raidou, "Nowhere, okay?"

"Nowhere?"

"...Yeah... nowhere..."

Shinji's bleak face suddenly broke into a grin

"Just like where YoU're AboUT to GoooOOOOoo...!"

Raidou's stony face broke into a surprised grimace, as he backed away. The change on Shinji's face moved to the rest of his body, leaving the teenage body to spasm, bulges moving to and fro on his body as he leaned forward, like some twisted cocoon.

It was probably closer to the truth than one would realize.

"I KnEW it...! YOu'Re THAT baSTArd gOING ArOUND sNIffin' US oUT...! bUT IF I taKE you OUUTT-!"

The back of Shinji's school uniform split, along with skin that seemed to part like rubber, revealing... machinery.

However implausible it was, the detective boy didn't even blink as a giant, skinny, mechanical beast pried itself out of flopping pile of empty flesh and cloth, pulsating with pistons and whirring gyros, and steel strips stapled, screwed, and soldered together. It was vaguely human, though supported by two long hissing arms, two similarly placed on the opposite side of the body, like a beast with no back, and no head, neither, but rather a massive array of concentric buzz saws spinning around a single axis protruding from the shoulders, tipped off into several more circular edges that pointed upward.

The monster shrieked and fell onto his hands, supporting itself on its hands and knees like an animal. The saws started up in deafening screech. Only the Shinji-Thing's voice was louder.

"iF I kILLL YOu... PEOple WiLL StoP fINdinG oUT...! KiLL THe nOSY HuuuMAAn!"

The monster lurched forward through the alley, intending to tear Raidou up in its grinding teeth. Backing away, the boy reached behind and under his gray jacket. Pulling out a snub-nosed revolver, he fired on the spinning head, but there were only noises of steel bouncing off steel, the gun's pathetic cracking gunfire, and the monster's laughter.

Raidou Kuzunoha ran for it, narrowily escaping a lunge that tore up concrete.

"I WoN'T LEt yOU gEt aWAY...! gRInD... eaT yOU! RUUNn... wEAk HUUmaaan...!"

The steel creature crawled after the boy detective, who wordlessly rushed through alleys that were soon crushed under foot and slashed apart. Eventually, the beast watched Kuzunoha turn a corner. It gave a wheezing giggle.

The only thing down there was a dead end. Time to paint three walls with greasy red.

It awkwardly managed to turn into the closed off alleyway, one shoulder crushing the corner of an office building as it squeezed in. Back against the wall, Raidou passively watched his oncoming death.

"HaaAAhaA... THouGhT yOU weRe So tOUgh? I bEt Youu'RE So AfrrAID!"

The detective narrowed his eyes from underneath his cap. Unzipping his jacket, he reached inside and pulled out another gun.

The saws laughed and spun, "StILl TryINg tO FiGhT!? WEak HuumANS DoN'T knOW thEIr pLAcE!"

Shinji, or whatever was left of him, continued its slow, menacing crawl forward, giving Kuzunoha Raidou the time he needed. The holster for the gun he held was strapped all the way across his chest, with several tube the size of rifle shells slotted in leather thongs. With expert memorization, he was already reaching for the third to the left, pulling it free.

The gun he held in his hand was unusual that it had no room for a magazine, though its clean, stainless steel, boxy shape was undoubtedly the shape of a semi-automatic. Regardless, Raidou pulled back on the slide, and slotted the strange round into the chamber, before letting it slam shut.

Then came the chant.

"Blade and Poem, though your song is sad, your contractor evokes you to uphold your pledge of loyalty-"

The saws closed in, "HeARinG VoiiCEs, HuuuMaaan...?"

Raidou raised his gun at the monster, "-to the bearer of this name! Kuzunoha Raidou commands you! Come, Knight of Venus and Mary! Tannhauser!"

Pulling on the trigger, the barrel of the gun spat a brilliant green burst of light. The glare confused the Shinji-Thing somewhat, but dismissed the light show, as the human was about to be torn into little-

_Scchink._

The front half of the series of buzz saws fell of, leaving the steel blades to spill about and bury themselves in the walls and floor.

The monster screamed in pain, the sensation of half of its head being slashed off like cheap shrubbery.

"GyyRAAuuGH! ArrRAGGH! WhaT!? WhAT tHE!?"

Kuzunoha Raidou was not alone. Intervening between the boy and the machine monster protectively was a glowing swordsman nearly as tall as the saw-headed beast was long. Its thin body was wrapped in azure plating that ended in a tattered cape that fluttered about its waist, its legs disappearing into skinny, stilt-like armored limbs. Rather than a face, was an intricately carved mask, from which two beady red glowing eyes seemed to glare through, while a wild blue and red headdress shot out the back like hair. In its right hand was a massive bastard sword, tip sunk into the ground after the swing that cleaved part of the monster's head away.

Tannhauser turned slightly, and looked back at the boy, who the knight towered over, "My Liege, is this defense satisfactory? Do you feel sufficiently protected?"

"No," Raidou bluntly returned, "My full safety will be ensured at the complete destruction of this... thing. You may be dismissed when this objective is completed."

Tannhauser turned back, "I understand, my Liege."

The monster seemed to recognize the glowing swordsman, rearing back in both fear and rage, "hAAuuSeeer...!? DemOn!? WeAAk deMON liSTEnING to WeAK HummAAAn!"

"On the contrary," Raidou snorted from across the alley, back against the wall and arms folded, "He is at least a demon, unlike you. Demons are the most proud of beings, and therefore value their pride above all. You however, threw away your pride when you traded everything for that pitiful body. You're the weak one here."

"ShhHUUUTttt uP!"

The mechanical joke charged forward, bleeding oil and threatening with half its remaining saws that spun uncontrollably around a serrated axis.

"Tannhauser."

"Yes, my Liege."

The demon knight grabbed its sword with both hands, and swung downwards with all its strength onto the brittle metal body.

* * *

Three o'clock in the morning found the police gathered about the scene of the sixth victim of the Skin Hater murders. Reports of disturbances in the night eventually led investigating patrols at the remains of Daigoro Shinji, with no signs as to where the rest of the body went. Police vehicles sat on the streets outside the alleyway, yellow tape squared off the scene of the incident, cameras flashed and police were everywhere, investigating. A few civilians that managed to awake watched with morbid curiosity, either blatantly exposed from windows emitting yellow light, or more shyly from behind cracks of curtains.

The detective in charge of tonight's grisly investigation, one Asaba Taeto, yawned in his crumpled office clothes. Great way to start a day. It probably would be any moment before the reporters arrived.

The detective heard the cries of a junior officer guarding the perimeter behind his back.

"H-Hey, wait! This is off limits to-"

"I am not a civilian, stand aside."

"You're not a cop either-"

"I have special permission to assist in this investigation."

"At your age!? Don't joke with me, you're probably some weird thrill seeker-"

Taeto interrupted, as he finally reached the minor commotion, "That's enough, officer. Let him through."

"What?"

Taeto looked at the Not Civillian, and had guessed right at who it was. He nodded civilly at the boy in gray clothes and a cap, the one who's presence he had gotten used to recently. The nosy, arrogant punk.

"Don't worry about mister Kuzunoha here. Just let him through."

"...Oh."

Kuzunoha Raidou wordlessly bowed under the tape that was raised somewhat for him by the junior officer, before dispassionately pacing over to where men where shooting photos.

"Who the hell is that kid?"

Taeto twisted to look at the cop, "You never saw him before on these cases?"

"It's my first time tonight to be actually at the scene of the crime on this case, detective."

Taeto shrugged, "Eh, fair enough. He's officially a consultant from the Konoe Trust."

"Konoe? You mean that family that owns the corporation here? He's a _consultant?_"

"Yeah, you're not the only guy here wondering about that. You know the guys over there have a bit of sway over the city. So a bunch of serial killings isn't going to improve their image. So their idea of contributing to the situation isn't just some fancy speeches, but they actually have the gall to send this kid over to "assist" in the investigation."

The two police officers looked over to where the boy was crouching over the mess, ostensibly taking notes down on a pad of paper.

"Personally, I don't like one bit of it. The kid may be bright, but I wouldn't put it past to say the Konoes just stuck a watch dog on us."

"You think they're hiding something?"

Taeto pondered that for a second, before finally deciding, "I've got no official statement on that."

Raidou returned to the boundary of tape, "Officers, I've taken down what notes I required. I shall leave the remaining investigation to you."

"Sure thing."

Taeto and the lesser ranked officer watched the boy walk over to a black limosine parked by the sidewalk. A slightly bulky chauffeur was already awaiting with an open door, and shut it closed behind Raidou as he slid inside. The detective snorted.

"But it's safe for me to call him a stuck up bastard who thinks he can just leave us with all the hard work. Look at him. Just comes and goes. Even got his own damn car driven for him."

As the Konoe company-owned vehicle took off, the first of the news teams arrived in their vans.

Asaba Taeto groaned at his waste of a morning.

* * *

The boy detective-consultant leaned back in the pleather seat, and sighed. The light of street lamps left patterns of shadows and reflections sliding across his face repeatedly.

"Kuzunoha Raidou the 17th."

He looked ahead to the two figures seated on the opposite side of the limousine, on chairs that faced backwards, leaving Raidou to be cross-examined. One was a woman bound up in tightly formal black office clothes, feminine cut blazer and a skirt that cut off at knees clenched together. Her stern eyes behind a frame of glasses and a no nonsense bun killed any sense of attractiveness and instantly demanded respect, which Raidou always gave.

The other was a black cat with bright green eyes.

Raidou bowed his head to the woman and the cat in turn, "Tsuchigumo-sama. Gouto-sama."

"Report." Gouto the cat spoke in an aged voice.

Raidou nodded, "The victim was a high school senior named Daigoro Shinji. The exact date of his abduction and death cannot not be verified with certainty, but circumstantial evidence implies April 10th, between six and nine o'clock. As with the others, the perpetrator was a Mikura wearing the victim's skin to blend in with humans. It attacked me with its original form when I questioned him about the date of the victim's disappearance. I was forced to summon Tannhauser to defend myself. Once again, I was too late to stop another victim. I apologize for my incompetence."

Raidou bowed as low as he could, seated in a moving vehicle, eyes closed.

The female, Tsuchigumo, replied rather acidly, "That makes makes it the seventh victim in these three months. These... abominations are getting out of control with their body snatching."

"Kuzunoha, have you been able to find any more clues, based on these recent events?" Gouto asked.

"Not any more than what supports the theory in my report, sir."

Gouto hummed, "At this rate, the leaders might call on the Shinmeiryuu for help."

Tsuchigumo snorted, "We can't afford to lose face of them. The bunch of muscle-headed barbarians. All they're good for is body-guarding. No finesse like you Devil Summoners, at least you give us the chance to talk things over. If the Shinmeiryuu were to take on this, they'd just go exorcising everything in sight with their giant swords!"

"What do you think, Kuzunoha?" Gouto asked.

"I agree with Tsuchigumo-sama."

The cat purred in thought. The two superiors turned to look at each other, before nodding in agreement. Tsuchigumo turned to speak to the driver.

"Take us to Kuzunoha Raidou's residence."

"Yes, ma'am."

Raidou's face was unmoved, but Gouto was able to read the piqued confusion in his eyes.

"Kuzunoha, how strong do you think your opinion is in affecting the leaders of this clan?"

"I try to assume nothing immediately, Gouto-sama. That was one of the first lessons I received from you."

"Indeed, I could tell rather quickly you would be deemed this generation's Kuzunoha when you stopped making assumptions based on size in front of that pixie faster than the other students."

Raidou's eyebrows moved slightly. If Gouto could give a smirk, he would have.

"But regardless, I think it is a good time to let you know, that as Kuzunoha Raidou, the single most talented Devil Summoner currently, along with your investigative skills, the leaders do indeed value your opinions more than one would think of a fifteen year old child."

Tsuchigomu cut to the chase, "What Gouto-sama is trying to get at, is that the leaders of the clan have for the most part, agreed with your theory, Kuzunoha."

"Ah."

"That is why we've decided to change the angle of your investigation." Gouto continued, with a flick of his ears."

"Ah."

"Do you know of Mahora Academy?"

"I know that Konoe Konoemon-sama is the current dean of the entire facility, and that Konoe Konoka Ojou-sama is a student there."

"Konoe Ojou-sama contains a high magic potential, and Mahora itself has several magical artifacts archived within. If your theory is correct, then Mahora would the first on their list, given the close distance between Kyoto and there."

"Ah..."

"You can't help but wondering if we're sending you on a glorified body-guarding assignment."

"...I am."

"Well, yes and no. Officially, you will be sent as reinforcement from the Kansai Magical Association to protect Konoe Ojou-sama in light of this situation. However, for people like us, our idea of defense is offense, hence you will be investigating Mahora. Hopefully a new lead as to where these Mikura are coming from will appear."

"I understand. As for Kyoto?"

"I'm sure it will continue to be in safe hands, between other Devil Summoners, and god forbid, the Shinmeiryuu. You however, as our best, will quietly hunt down the source."

"I understand."

"You'll be given a more detailed briefing later," Tsuchigumo spoke again, "For now, you h ave one hour to pack necessities. Afterwards, you will take the first train to Mahora."

The car came to a stop. Kuzunoha Raidou bowed at the waist.

"I understand."

* * *

Four hours later, in the more peaceable morning of seven o'clock, there was a neat arrangement of three raps on door outside of Dean Konoe Konoemon's office.

Behind his desk, battling with various documents, with Shizuna beside him, the wizened old man looked up.

"Who is it?"

"My name is Kuzunoha Raidou. You might have received a call to expect me." A voice behind the door answered.

Konoemon had, in fact.

"Aah... come in!"

The door gave way to allow Raidou in, impeccably military with his posture, his cap underneath one armpit, along with a tan folder, revealing black hair that was slicked back with enough gel to nearly shine. His eyes, though giving signs of exhaustion, still had not surrendered its sterile gaze.

"Konoe Konoemon-sama. I am from the Kansai Magic Assocation. I have business with you."

The boy looked at Shizuna for a second, before amending.

"The less people who know, the better. For security purposes."

The sides of Shizuna's eyes tightened slightly, obviously not amused. Raidou was familiar enough with the expression with Tsuchigomu.

Konoemon gave a chuckle regardless, "You really think so, Raidou-kun?"

Raidou was able to avoid mirroring Shizuna, despite the sudden casualness the Dean took up with him. But he was a Konoe, so it was acceptable for superiors to have some leverage. As long as Raidou didn't bite and start throwing "-kun"s and "-chan"s left and right.

"In light of the current situation, yes."

Konoemon raised his hands in mock defeat, "I'll accept expert advice, then. I could take a break from all this paper work, anyways. Shizuna-kun, could you take this young man's suggestion? Perhaps use the opportunity to take a break?"

"If that's alright with you, Dean, I guess I'll have to." Shizuna sighed. She wasn't one to hold petty grudges over simple cold formality. Acceding, she closed the door behind her as she left.

Raidou looked back at the door, while Konoemon continued, standing up to walk towards the sofas around the coffee table in the large office.

"Well, well, it isn't often that I get to see a Devil Summoner in person, you secretive lot! Sit!"

"Thank you. I believe the pleasure is mine to be able to sit in front of someone as esteemed as yourself, Konoe-sama." Raidou replied, taking a separate seat to the large sofa Konoemon was settling into.

"Ah, no, no. I'm just an old bag of bones!" Konoemon laughed for a second, "But I suppose you're not the type of person to stand around with idle talk, are you?"

"No. I believe you've received some news of the situation in Kyoto?"

"Some. You people have been investigating something about serial killings, is it?"

"That's part of the situation. Let me give more concise summary. You're also free to read our current comprehensive report here, though some of the photographs may be disturbing in content." Raidou answered, passing along the tan folder. Konoemon accepted it, flipping through reports, while the boy explained.

"Beginning three months ago, we've begun investigating disturbances that were vaguely demonic in nature. By the time we got to the bottom of it, I had confronted a low level demon who had been masquerading as a human-"

"This is...!"

"Unfortunately."

"Despicable..."

"It only gets more so. The demons involved in these cases had been involved in mechanical enhancement, through means we have not yet been able to discover. These mechanized demons we have taken to calling "Mikura"."

"Mikura..."

"After the fifth victim, I felt I had discovered a pattern behind the victims being abducted by the Mikura, and put forward a theory that apparently the leaders of my clan support."

"That is...?"

"The first victims were simply tests, to see if masquerading a Mikura as a human would be successful. From the third victim to the fifth, the ages of the victims had begun to lessen, and correlate closer together."

Raidou paused. Letting Konoemon look up.

"My theory is that the Mikura are aiming to masqueraded primarily as school students and faculty, given the average of the ages between the third and seventh victim. These mechanized demons might be attempting to infiltrate a school of some importance."

Konoemon was silent with furrowed brows for several minutes. Raidou sat with the same patient stoicism.

"Raidou-kun... with this information, what do you intend to do here?"

"What I intend to do is follow orders. The Kansai Magic Association formally has sent me as extra security, as a precautionary measure in light of the possible movements of the Mikura. More specifically, I am to watch over Konoe Ojou-sama until the situation is deemed safer."

Konoemon stood up, walking back to the seat behind his papered desk, "I see. Do you think this campus is safe?"

Raidou stood up as well, "In an all out attack, the Mikura can be handled easily."

The old man finally gave a sigh, before scratching his head sheepishly, "Well, I suppose you'll be staying here for a while?"

"I will be."

"Heh, and you'll be looking after my cute granddaughter, Raidou-kun?"

"I will."

"You should know my daughter sleeps at an all girls dormitory..."

"My superiors have already picked a service apartment in relative proximity. They believe a certain amount of obscurity would help my protection."

"And she also goes to an all girls middle school..."

"The folder you have also contains documents my superiors prepared, to allow my temporary enrollment at St. Ursula's as a student, which I believe is also within easy reach of Ojou-sama's middle school."

"And you'll be looking after her 24-7?"

"18-7, though I am preparing safeguards for the remaining six."

For some reason, Konoemon broke into a loud laugh there, though Raidou wasn't quite sure where the humor was in this situation. His assignment was vitally serious, after all.

"Well, I see you're a man who likes to prepare for everything, already at your age, Raidou-kun! I think I like that!"

The boy moved a step towards the door, "I'll accept that as a compliment, Konoe-sama. I've said everything required as of now. I need to prepare my living space and my first day of class orientation, so I must be leaving promptly. If there's anything more you require of me..."

"Just one thing, Raidou-kun. How old are you?"

"I'm fifteen, Konoe-sama."

"And do you have a girlfriend?"

Raidou blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Humor me."

"...No, I don't."

"Ah-ha..." Konoemon swept a hand through his beard, apparently giving a grin, though Raidou wasn't sure if he saw teeth, "Would you like to go on a date with my daughter? She's the same age as you, and very pretty, heh, heh..."

Kuzunoha Raidou's managed not to choke, but he had to cover one of his momentarily tightly clenched cheeks by fixing his hat back onto his head. He responded formally.

"I am honored, and appreciate the gesture, Konoe-sama. However, I must decline. If the day comes that Konoe Ojou-sama chooses someone for her romantic affections, it should be to a person of equal or higher status to her. Associating with someone at my level would be like marrying downwards. Which would be a waste."

* * *

**Name: Classified**

**Known Aliases: Kuzunoha Raidou the 17th (Awarded Title of Recognition)**

**Weapon of Choice: Gun of Evocation**

**Patron God: Yatagarasu**

**Points of Interest: Attachment to hat.**

**Profession: Devil Summoner (First Class), Konoe Trust (aka Kansai Magic Association) Affairs Consultant.**


	2. Ken Itano

**Ken Itano**

* * *

_He could smell ash. Could feel the heat strong enough to lick his skin unbearably._

_He couldn't pay attention to the scream of terror emanating from the village about him, not while clawed hands held down his pitiful child body by the head and body. Even then he continued to struggle, with gritted teeth._

_Garbled laughter, like dangling a mouse by its tail._

"_I wonder why he's struggling so hard!?"_

"I wonder what he thinks he can do!?"

"I wonder why he's so serious!"

_Thick fingers pried his mouth open, letting something sharp into his mouth, resting against the inside of his cheeks._

"_He should smile more..."_

"_No, no..."_

_The grip of his face adjusted, so that it held the top of his head, palm covering his eyes. A pin prick of an edged point rested on his cheeks, under each of his eyes._

"_He should be crying more..."_

_Snickers and giggles._

_Suddenly, "Why not both? Humans are such contradictory creatures... they can't decided when to be happy, or sad... they should express themselves more!"_

"Indeed."

"_Indeed!"_

_Snicker-snak._

_It went dark. He couldn't tell whether he screamed first or not._

_When he awoke, a blanket of ash fell off his body, and he watched the morning sun rise over the mountains and into the lifeless village, save one boy with a bleeding face, watching it all._

_That was the first time he learned of things like Pain, which pressed against all mind, body, and soul._

_Something inside broke._

* * *

_Five years later, he thought he had risen high enough to never feel that kind of Pain ever again._

_But he was feeling it again. Every limb smashed, his face a mess, his head spinning, his organs heaving. He was all over the ground, choking with rage._

"_Come on, guys. He's done."_

_Done...!? DONE!?_

_A blade bit into the ground, and he managed to lean on it enough to manage standing on the smoking battlefield._

"_THOUSAND MASTER!" He screeched._

_They turned around, the one in the middle first, with his crimson hair._

"_You think... this is OVER!?" He wheezed, his mouth running red down his chin, onto his neck and the ground._

"_Pull that stick out of your arse. You've lost." The Man of a Thousand Spells snorted._

"_Shut up...! If I can kill you... If I can kill you! The great invincible hero...! I'm the sword god! I'm a force of nature! I'm not stopped by... flesh and blood...! So be a good boy... Springfield and-"_

_He was met with a Welsh right hook that sent him spinning in place. Before he collapsed, the hero that had defeated the rampaging "sword god" grabbed him by the collar, and dragged him until they were face to face._

He found himself staring into furious eyes. Wide, with twisted eyebrows.

"_Sword god? Force of nature!? Don't make me laugh! Who the hell do you think you are!? You think you're above people!? Bullshit! I can tell! You think you're strong!? You're anything but that! You're Pathetic!"_

"_You piece of crap...! Who do you think you are-"_

"_You're playing god so you can run away from whatever you're running from! Like a coward! You don't even bother trying to face it, and you just take it out on people who aren't even the issue! You're just a kid having a tantrum! And you think you could beat me!? All those people you hurt... you're the worst! You pathetic... piece of-!"_

_Something in that voice, full of vehemence and raw fury at something offended greater than himself. He looked at all of it, the anger in the man's eye, and actually yelped in fear, shutting his eyes in expectation to receive the next punch that was rearing back._

"_Stop it, Nagi."_

"_What?"_

"_It's over. He's done. Let him go."_

"Hmph."

"_Don't worry, he's learned his lesson."_

"Whatever. You better hope thing are different if we meet again."

_He was dropped, and he let himself fall on his back, still. He spent the night on the battlefield, staring up at the night sky._

The man was right. These wasted years... what kind of life had he lived?

_The fire of the hero's words helped reform that thing inside that had been broken, but not completely. Just a tenuous hold back together, a crippled thing, which he crawled away with, wondering about himself._

* * *

Many Years Later -

Granicus was a regular dust-bowl of a city, located in the southern hemisphere of Mundus Magicus. To say it was lawless would be a bit too strong a term. But regardless, Granicus was still a city where words like "profit" and "opportunity" were ones for everyday, and ones like "equality" and "fairness" were... adapted, to say the least.

Along these sand trodden streets, aside the teeming masses of merchants, bounty hunters, and other RPG classes, there was a certain tavern that made its home. This dank repository of drinks wasn't much different than others you'd see. A little more cutthroat, but fighting wasn't good for business. So for all the dubious personalities that cooled their heels, nursed their drinks, sat down in dark places, this bar was surprisingly peaceful.

The bartender, a rather unmoved fellow, was thus able to get about his business. It helped that he had a natural ability to intimidate rowdy customers into silence, thanks to a large pair of brawny arms that came out bare out the sides of his apron.

"Yo! Can I have another one?" A particularly needy patron called out again. The bartender wasn't annoyed though. He had a type like him, everyday, who came into his bar, acting like some yuppie that wanted to show of his advanced knowledge of liquors and cocktails.

"Yes sir, what'll it be? More Guinness?"

"Hmm... actually, do you have any Sake? Just a little bit, like, two cups full. Oh, and can I have a little more fruit slushy, too?"

The tender reached under the counter to pour out the drinks this yuppie needed. Though, despite the man's tastes, the bartender couldn't really call him out as a young city slicker with too many money, naivety, and presuppositions of what "adventure" was like.

He wouldn't admit himself, but this customer that sat before him cheekily on a stool, made him wary.

Whatever of his body could be hardly seen, since he was buttoned down in a large tan overcoat that came down partly to his shins where simple pants and shoes, the color of dirt and dust, continued on. On his hands were tough gloves lacking fingers. Upon his head was an uncharacteristic top hat, broken into checker shapes alternating between red and black, until it hit the black brim. Rust red hair came out unevenly out the back, like a crumpled rug. His eyes were a green so brilliant it was questionable whether it was even natural.

Then there were the scars.

Massive rips that ran across his cheeks all the way to the edges of his lips, like once upon a time he smiled too violently. Now healed back together uneasily, leaving a thin trail of bumpy reddened skin in a curve that looked like some ridiculous extension of the lips.

Two more lacerations ran down from the lower lids of the eyes to meet near the mouth, too, as if one day he cried so hard his skin couldn't take it. All that was left now were ribbed red gouges that slowly narrowed into tips near the end, as they touched the scars on his mouth.

Those were terrible wounds to be put on that face that seemed to be trying to smile. This man had experienced something that no regular "yuppie" could ever have imagined. The bartender was afraid of asking what the story was, though.

Then again, all and any nervousness was quickly mollified at the sight of the scarred man practically gushing at adding another more alcohol and crushed ice to his strange concoction. It was some kind of strange layered, rainbow colored drink that had no logic, and seemed to be 20 percent alcohol of varying makes to the remaining 80 percent fruit drink, ice, syrup, and little paper and toothpick umbrellas.

It was a little strange to see everyone else trying to build a tough guy image with all their hard alcohol, then all of a sudden, in the middle of all this, a man daintily sipping from a wide martini glass, with a straw.

"Ah..." The scarred man sighed contently, "Nothing better~."

"You know, I'm surprised you've got the guts to try and drink something like that in a place like this." The bartender finally admitted to his patron.

The scarred man's nose crumpled in disdain, "What do you want me to do? Drink something I think tastes bad just so I can look tough?"

"Wouldn't you want to look tough?"

"If there was a point to it, then maybe, yeah." The scarred man snorted, "But being tough doesn't equal being strong."

The bartender smirked, "Oh, yeah?"

"Of course! If you're not strong while being tough, then you're still weak. Just it'll take longer to beat you up. But that's it. There are people who enjoy making minced beef out of jerky, you know."

"And what about you? You think you're strong?"

The ends of the man's smile curled up slightly, "Me? Naw, I'm made of glass! I'm not anything, really."

His eyes lost its focus for a second as he began to talk to himself.

"...But, I'm looking for what it means to be strong, I guess."

"You think you'll find it?"

"Who knows...?"

"Hey, don't give me an indecisive answer like that! People should know what they want!" The bartender exclaimed.

"...You know, you remind me of my father." The scarred man deadpanned with a straight stare.

"Do I?"

"Yeah. You do..." Suddenly, the man's scrunched up, and he gave a soft, melodramatic sniffle, "I miss my dad... why did you have to go away...!? B-Barberry flavor... comfort me with manliness! Nyguh-huh..."

With that, the scarred man went back to weepily gulping away at his spiked fruit slushie through his straw, giving off overacted sobs of despair.

The bartender looked at his patron for a second, before shrugging and going back to cleaning glasses and wiping the counter. Near the bar counter, a screen hung from the ceiling, showing TV programs catered to the interests of the male patrons. In these times, that mean the screen was almost consistently set to the Sports, with near constant highlights and updates coming from the annual local gladiatorial matches, the Granicus Cup. Today was no exception, and neither was the winner, as a bat-wing reporter appeared live on television.

"_Astounding, Ladies and Gentlemen! Once again hopes were raised and lost, expectations shattered! You heard it here first! The 20th match up was cleared with a flawless victory from Team Nagi once again, as Nagi Springfield and Kojiro Oogami utterly wiped out another pair of local favorites, the Grausam Valkyries, Selvaria Bles and Alicia Melchiott, with style, power, violence, and grace! Here I have him again, the mystery man himself, our very own local legend, Nagi Springfield! How do you feel, Mr. Springfield? Your winning streak is unmatched! You're not even tiring out?"_

"_Ah, well... no?"_

"_Ah-ha! Just like a Nagi Springfield thing to say, huh? Say, if it's not too personal, you mind telling us the reason you joined up this tournament?"_

"_Well, I'm hoping to get to the top, and hopefully participate in the final tournament."_

"_Oh! The Nagi Cup! Dreams of grandeur, Springfield?"_

"_Ah, no. I'm just... hoping I can win the grand prize. I really need the money..."_

The bartender hummed, folding his arms, as he found himself witness to another report of yet another victory by the handsome young man on the screen.

"Strength, huh? And meanwhile, we have the kid here tearing it up. People all over the world are wondering who this Nagi is. Reincarnation, or whatever, hah..."

The bartender chuckled to himself, considering the wild theories being tossed around. He had no interest in it, though. What this Nagi Springfield was mattered little in his line of work.

Then, there was sudden crash of breaking glass, the shocking noise running up the bartender's spin and making him jerk slightly, before turning around to the source of the noise. The martini glass in front of the scarred man had broken in his hand, leaving flavored slush and alcohol all over the counter top.

"I take it you're not very fond of the kid?" The bartender ventured.

"Ahh... I'm sorry! This was completely my fault! I must have not been paying attention, and I squeezed too hard or something-!"

The bartender waved off the scarred man's apologies, as he took a thick wash cloth to wipe the mess and the glass together, off the counter and into a small bucket he also had handy under the table, "Eh, don't worry about it. Part of the job. Your hand alright?"

"Ah, I think...?" The patron waved his hand in question a few times to see if there was any glass dug into the skin, "I think my glove helped."

"Good thing."

The scarred man sweated a bit, as he fumbled into his pockets, trying to pull out coin money for the trouble, "I'm really sorry about this, but, uh, I think I should get going... I hope this is enough for the glass, too-"

"Don't worry about it, this place got more cups than we'll probably ever need."

Several coins clattered onto the counter top regardless, as the scarred man stood up and tipped his hat, "Well, I guess that's all for today. I'll see you later, then!"

"Sure. Don't get into trouble out there."

"Eugh, you sound a lot like my dad..."

* * *

Nagi Springfield. Nagi. Springfield.

Hearing the name televised was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Tasted like bile and old saliva playing with the memories of dirt and blood.

He had to walk off that feeling. Nagi Springfield was the division between his past and present, and remembering the name... the man behind the name. It was like sitting back on that fence, where it was so easy to fall forwards or backwards.

Nagi Springfield... was a name that was to be revered by history, not flung about as some name in some toy championship, playing pretend-war...

The scarred man walked through the streets, and would have dismissed this bloodcurdling thoughts.

Then he saw Nagi Springfield cross through.

Of course, the boy was taking the pain to cover his shape under a fairly large cloak and cowl, but the man could not be fooled, especially after seeing reruns of the boy's fights over the course of weeks. People carried things in and out of their battles, and the boy carried much, as if he was always expecting a battle to come soon.

The scarred man could recognize the boy by his walking, which seemed painfully obvious to him it was a slowed down version of his movements in the arenas. The intentional focus of the weight towards the front of the feet, to be the first to initiate a dodge, the slightly wide walk to ensure balance, the stiffness of his shape.

Probably based off a Chinese martial art. This Nagi hadn't used a staff yet. Still, videos let the scarred man divine this Nagi was a Magic Swordsman, had a preference for delayed spells, Light, Wind, or Lightning, augmenting or supplementing close combat either directly or to have a surprise attack.

The delayed spells implied that though this Nagi was an expert in his martial arts, his initial magic training had encouraged a western style of combat, wherein a mage functioned as a long range support within a combat unit (either others, or he had his own Minister Magi, potentially that Kojiro fellow), and this Nagi was still awkwardly marrying his spells with his fists.

This was the same Nagi Springfield that passed in and out of the Granicus Cup like nobody's business.

Nagi. Springfield.

The scarred man's teeth pressed against each other, the sight of his ire taken such physical shape to the point he thought he was flaunting in front of him. His feet soon found himself following after the hooded character, his green eyes trying not to drill his hatred through the gladiator's head.

Nagi. Springfield.

What did this person dare think, to be Nagi Springfield? Did he just believe that being powerful would make him convincing enough to carry that name? Did this person have the sheer ignorance to forget what that hero did for the whole world? For him, himself!?

Here was... a boy... fighting only for money. Only for some cheap glory. Using that name and identity so flagrantly, pretending to be someone... infinitely greater in deed. Nagi Springfield was... much more than some Thousand Master.

A Gladiator posing as the Hero of the World...!? The man who saved him, himself... This... insult... this...

Thoughts on the fence, dangling between the world of carnage behind him and the image of the hero before, as he stood talking to some burly figure in a cloak, sitting in an outdoor cafe. Discussing something about price rates and copyrights.

So much hatred it made his heart ache. His stepping sped up, and before he knew it, there was little else he could see but the seething red before his eyes, and a two handed Jian falling out of his sleeve and into his hand. The crowds parted before the man as he charged the white cloaked form.

"**NAGI SPRINGFIELD!"**

Down the street, "Nagi Springfield", felt a malevolent intention suddenly flung onto his shoulders from another, which was summarily interpreted as "I will ram my fucking hand _through your head._"

Then he heard the scream, and air currents parting before his neck.

Nagi, as the world knew him, immediately jerked to the side, letting a blade narrow pierce where his head might have been only a second before. The attack only continued, a stab flowing into a slice to follow after Nagi's neck, which prompted the young gladiator to swing his whole body towards the floor, crashing onto the dirt on his back.

Nagi saw a scarred man attacking him, with the grip on his sword expertly flipping about into a backhanded grip to stab down at Nagi again. From under the cloak, Nagi's legs instinctively lashed out, one to collide into the man's wrist, deflecting the blow so it only stabbed into the earth, while the second kick followed the same motion again, with enough force to send the sword flying out of the man's fingers.

With the man disarmed, Nagi flipped backwards, onto his feet, cautiously regarding his sudden attacker. About them, a crowd always ready for excitement gathered at a safe distance. Nagi's cowl had slipped off his head in the last move, leaving the people to gasp.

"Hey, it's Nagi!"

"Nagi Springfield from the cup?"

"Some idiot's trying to take him on!"

"Oh, he's finished, man. It's Nagi!"

"70 on Nagi!"

Of course, neither paid much attention, as Nagi only questioned, somewhat carefully, somewhat dumbfounded.

"Who are you!?"

The scarred man returned with an easy "smile" as he stared back at Nagi, almost predatory.

"Jester of Ruin. Sword Circus. Bloodsport Fairy Tale. The Apocalypse's Opening Act. The Carnage Carnival. I've been called those before. Though, at this moment, know me only as Ken. Itano Ken."

The crowd seemed to recognize that name, as they began to back away from Ken with a sense of unease.

"Wait... isn't he the several million bounty...?"

"...The one that can't be caught...?"

"...The sword god...!?"

"...That psychopath that tore up whole villages during the war years...!?"

"...I'm putting 100 on Ken."

Now, Nagi was worried. Ken however, wasn't as he sneered his way around the boy with several easy steps.

"What's the matter, Nagi? Fame and Fortune suddenly doesn't taste so good anymore...? If you think you're anything strong enough to start trying to pretend being the Thousand Master, you should be ready to reap this whirlwind...!"

"Wait! There are people here-!"

Another jian fell into Ken's hand from his sleeve. Nagi bit back a curse, realizing that this place was about to become a war zone if he didn't find away out of here.

Charging magic to his feet, Nagi left the ground in a plume of dirt, heading towards the empty roofs of Granicus.

Ken grinned, before giving chase.

Back at the cafe, the burly figure smirked and folded his arms.

"Sooner or later, he would have shown up, I guess. If that boy is really who I think he is... he should be able to hold him off for a bit...."

* * *

Ken scrambled onto the roof, lunging after Nagi, who was rapidly pulling off his coat, and twining the thick material around his right arm, past the elbow and over the hand. The swordsman was already rapidly calculating.

_Cloth as a shield over the right arm. Probably can be charged with magic to increase effectiveness, though it won't last if I keep at it. Right arm is this boy's strong arm. Putting the cloak there means he's taking a defensive stance to me? Wait, there's an enchanted ring on that left hand. Might be considerable to a wand, meaning he can perform magic._

True to his thoughts, Ken took a multitude of swings, each impacting against Nagi's makeshift gauntlet that warded away each blow with a loud ring of steel meeting magic. As such, their expertly timed dance of back and forth, Nagi still defending while Ken blitzed on, continued to a point where in a strong stroke towards the gladiator's neck suddenly left Ken extending his attack to nothing but air.

_Instant movement. Not bad._

Behind the still recovering Ken, Nagi appeared, his one free fist cock backed with several magic projectiles rotating around. The boy was eager to end the fight, and was more than willing to land his blow from behind if it ensured him a point-blank.

Before any of that could happen, though, Ken already twisted his head around, and his free hand already had a new sword flying out his his sleeve, swinging the fresh weapon backward at Nagi. The boy jerked back in shock, before forcing his shield arm up, sword leaving another sizable gash against the magically empowered cloth.

"Sagitta Magica!"

Nagi relented with firing his three magic bolts at Ken, his initial attempt thwarted. With his two swords, Ken batted away one, tilted out of the way of another with another half-formed smile, and leapt completely away from the third, twirling to higher section of another roof. Unwilling to concede the higher ground, Nagi jumped to another rooftop equal in height.

_Three swords already from under his coat... there's no way those swords could have been stored normally. He has to be using some kind of artifact to be able to keep getting more..._

A chuckle from Ken brought Nagi out of his analysis.

"That look on your face is hardly a Nagi one, whoever you are... don't be so serious! I thought you liked fighting, since you're hamming it up in those tournaments! Fight free and happy! Smile! Smile!"

Ken's grip on his blades suddenly loosened considerably, while his arms became a blur, sending the two Jians hurtling through the air towards Nagi.

"Cantus: Vente!"

The quickly uttered spell produced a brief, but powerful gale that blew the trajectories of the projectiles ringing away to either side of Nagi's head.

_There must have been a large amount of magic infused in those blades to be able to maintain that straight line, even when being blown away..._

As far as Nagi was concerned, Ken knew how to use magic to degrees, but he was only a swordsman with magic talent, rather than a mage with sword skills. If he didn't know spells, he must not have had a proper education in the theories of magic.

_Then he isn't aware of the drawbacks of using so much magic inefficiently. Humans can't infinitely pull more mana as they please. He shouldn't be able to jump this distance, then. I should have enough time to cast something to finish this...!_

"Cantus: Ēvocātiō Spīrituālis de Septendecim Valcyriīs Mortiferīs-"

There was the sound of ground smashing that cut off the rest of Nagi's chant. Suddenly, Ken was in his face, both his arms drawn back.

Both of the swordsman's hands were fingers entwined around three swords each.

_How did he-!?_

Nagi's thoughts switched to warding his face from the six swords that dug into his cloak cum gauntlet. A slight crazed stare from Ken told him that he had been out maneuvered somehow.

The swords this time slid though the cloth of Nagi's brace, leaving the gladiator shocked, while a cry from Ken led the two of them pulling away from each other, the cloak between them tearing apart in the grip of Ken's blades. While Nagi managed to save his right arm from the same fate, darting back and leaving his temporary shield for loss.

_That energy... he can use ki as well...!?_

Well, this certainly was not good.

All of Ken's blades stabbed towards Nagi. The gladiator mage was out of options for close combat against swords-

"Emitto!"

A bright spike of magic energy covered Nagi's right hand, extending roughly a foot in length past the balled fist. Ken's rosebush of edges collided against this, to Ken's humming surprise, as he ruminated it quickly.

_Oh-ho... this Nagi's good enough to try using a Sword of Conviction? But this isn't a perfect one... hardly sword enough to be any sword at all except a fool's glorious suicide..._

"Still... you are becoming more and more interesting, Nagi Springfield!"

Ken forced his blades forward, irregardless of the strain they were being put under, being pressed against sheer concentrated magic. Predictably, the material weapons shattered, but the resulting shockwave both parties to be knocked off balance. While Nagi began to stumble backwards, Ken simply grinned, though his waving and empty arms were out of range of attacking the boy, even if they had swords.

Then the swordsman used his off balance momentum to swing himself around into a spinning roundhouse kick that still would have had his heel just swing short of Nagi's neck.

That was, if it were not for another sword sliding out of the man's pant leg, magically affixed to his heel.

Nagi choked as the edged kick slashed into his neck-

Nagi fell apart into conjured ice. Ken snorted.

"He managed to finish and hold onto that Valkyrie spell that long? Tch, delayed spells. He better not be running or hiding...!"

Not far from where he had faked out, Nagi landed heavily on his feet. It was yet another roof, yet hopefully the combination of the raised canopy and stairwell would provide cover for time enough for the boy to catch his breath. His neck sported a bleeding cut that, by some miracle, Nagi had managed to avoid letting slice through anything vital. Adrenaline surged though his brain, leaving him giving off rapid, shallow pants.

_This is a real life-threatening duel... It's an actual fight to the death. I can't find an opening for a counterattack. It's just like fighting Master._

No. If it weren't for Master's training, this would have been over in an instant.

"This guy..."

"NAGI!"

The gladiator was sent tumbling through the air as the roof exploded from a top hatted, swing swinging meteor. As Nagi flew, his thoughts continued to thin out, while his adrenaline kept rushing through his body, sending him crashing onto a circular roof of a drum shaped center.

_Is the real thing... He's strong! A genuine, formidable opponent!_

As Nagi stood again, all his anxiety suddenly melted away at that realization. There was only a sudden clarity that it was now just him and Ken, and nothing else really mattered.

Thus, Nagi almost smiled for a second, before mustering all the magic he could in a great yell, the energy even visibly whipping around his body and clothes.

Ken closed in, some surprise marking his face as he leapt through the air.

_The atmosphere is changing... this Nagi had this much magic power!? His stance is changing... he wants to meet me head on now..._

"Heh, whatever he thinks that can do-!" Ken laughed it off, and continued to soar in at Nagi. The gladiator jumped upward to meet the challenge. With no ground under the swordsman, Ken was free to pull more swords out, two attaching themselves at the ankle, while, three went back to each hand. Twisting at the waist, Ken began flipping around towards Nagi, becoming a confusing mess of limbs and blades that would not reveal which would attack first.

It came when Ken gave a predictable over head swing at Nagi's head with his three swords. The gladiator leaned back sharply, letting the claw narrowly miss his face. Ken had been waiting for that move, though. The swordsman's apparent overly strong swing turned the downward slash into one more tumble, letting his legs come overhead, the two blades on the legs scissoring together to close on Nagi, who was trapped still in the midst of avoiding the last attack, with no new kinetic energy to swing out of the way.

So he didn't.

Ken felt his legs suddenly stop in mid swing. Looking down his body, he choked at Nagi simply having grabbed both of the swordsman's ankles, holding the legs to either side of him. Ken was now left him as the one trapped.

_He saw through... he can keep up!?_

"...in Meā Manū Ēns Inimīcum Edat-!"

Eye's widening, Ken quickly bent himself at the knees, dragging his upper body towards Nagi, so that he could plunge all his six swords into the gladiator-

"Fulgurātiō Albicans!"

A fistful of lightning simply broke through the swords, made it's way over Ken's chest, and settled itself nicely into his scarred face, with a satisfying Crunch.

"Plghegrgh-!"

Nagi let Ken go, leaving the scarred man dealing with his rattling teeth and bloody nose, while began an even faster chant.

"Ēpōidē: Kenotētos Astrapsatō de Temetō! Dios Tukos!"

With this, Nagi swung his left arm down, releasing a wave of pure electricity onto his enemy. Suspended in mid air as he was, Ken simultaneously disappeared into a silhouette ignited by the magic charge, while being plunged earthward. The electrified shape hit a rooftop with a loud crash, dust sent spiraling into the air.

Nagi, though, now lacked any tact. He was willing to follow through with this until Ken was begging surrender. With that in mind, the boy dropped from the air, with the intention of landing, both feet on the scarred man's face.

Before that could happen, though, the veil of dust burst into a fierce maelstrom of wind, turning Nagi's dive bomb into a pitiful body flittering away in the gusts. Out from the winds, several dozen blades flung themselves towards Nagi. The gladiator threw up his arms forming a multi-tiered shield that let most of the projectiles glance harmlessly off. Two punctured through, though, one grazing Nagi's shoulder, another slashing his side.

Nagi dropped onto the edge of the roof, wincing.

_More of both that magic and ki... does he really have that much that!?_

From the last of the clearing dust, Ken stood grinning with reddened teeth. His hat disappeared somewhere in the last attack, leaving his wrinkled red hair exposed.

"You never told me you were this good, Nagi...! You had this speed and strength that you never even used during the tournaments! There really is more to you! We finally meet for real, Nagi Springfield!"

"What are you even hoping to accomplish from this fight, anyways!?"

Ken snorted, "Who cares at this point!? I don't care! I just... haven't felt this good in ages... all that matters is who's going to win or lose!"

He looked Nagi straight in the eye, "Now, there's somebody I want to try my best against, too..."

Energy began to burn in either of the scarred man's hands. One violent and roiling, the other svelte and flowing.

"Magic goes in the left, Ki goes in the right..."

Nagi looked on in increasing shock as the combined energy exploded around Ken, throwing the edges of his overcoat upward, the loose bits of his clothes fluttering violently, and his eyes still that almost alarming luminescent green.

_This is the same technique that Takahata... that Asuna uses...!?_

"C'mon Nagi... don't you enjoy fighting...!?"

Uh-oh.

There was the sound of steel ringing, and Nagi hissed as he found his hands moving for him, palms clamping around a Jian that Ken was trying to push forward into Nagi's throat. The steel was now nearly glowing with the power of Kankaho, the energy searing Nagi's palms, the gladiator's face twisted with pain.

Ken grinned, a deft hand movement suddenly had the sword in his hand shooting forward, as if having been thrown. Nagi, attached to the sword, was flung off the edge of the roof to another while he tried to keep the hurled object from sinking into him.

_He's faster than before!_

"Aren't we just about even now, NAGI!?"

Nagi looked up to see Ken high in the air from a gigantic leap, his hands full of swords he held by the blades, arms raised above his head. Nagi quickly planted both on the ground, flinging the sword away from his hands, while sending himself skyward in the same instant Ken's arms came down. Nagi's body twisted around as many blazing edges as he could, though it was inevitable much of his body came away gashed from the swords, even as he swung his leg around to kick Ken in the head as hard as he could.

The two battered bodies crashed to the ground, but just as quickly jumped to their feet. Nagi, perhaps when he was thinking more clearly, would have been concerned about the length the fight was dragging out. But now, he was fighting, and even enjoying it.

Ken, inevitably, would always be Ken.

"NAGI SPRINGFIELD!"

"KEN!"

Nagi's magic charged fist made its way into Ken's stomach, doubling him over his arm. That would be a mistake.

In moments, Nagi heard the sound of steel churning through flesh, and felt a spike of agony lance through his arm and into his brain. The gladiator blurred away, sans his right arm, which Ken continued to hold in his hand.

"So this is the limit of this Nagi...?" Ken taunted.

Nagi grunted, clutching the stump of his limb, before charging forward again, "I still... I STILL HAVE MY LEFT!"

Ken held forward a sword in one hand, smiling crazily, and throwing away Nagi's missing arm, "Come have it then, you nearly-but-not-really-NAGI!"

The two, bleeding to pieces as they were, would have continued, sword and magically empowered fist ready to meet each other when a third burly figure suddenly interjected, his hands grabbing both Nagi's fist and catching Ken's sword with his fingers.

Both were visibly shocked at the new figure that had the strength to stop the brawl in a single move. This giant of a man that towered over both Ken and Nagi, with his bronzed muscular frame that was hidden only by an open jacket and a pair of pants, and his wild mane of wheat blond hair.

"Heh... That was a pretty good match. But I'm taking care of this match now!"

Ken recognized the man, which immediately precipitated in letting go of his sword and jumping several feet back.

"Rakan!? What are you doing here?"

Nagi Springfield seemed surprised to hear the name, "Rakan... as in...?"

Jack Rakan turned to Ken first, tossing away the abandoned sword idly.

"You seem to be the same as ever, Sword Circus. Still all itchy for action, huh?"

"Why... why are you defending that Nagi!? That cheap imposter that fights in tournament for cheap fortune and glory!" Ken snarled.

"Oh? But it looked like he was good enough to make you almost forget that, huh?"

Ken gulped, realizing that truth with some embarrassment.

"Still-!"

"Don't worry about it, you punk!" Rakan smirked, before dropping a hand atop Nagi's head, almost affectionately, if one didn't notice the boy was a wreck, "Nagi here is my pupil!"

Ken's eyes bulged as he spluttered, "P-Pupil!? HIM!?"

"That's right! So, kid's under my protection. If you want to deal with him, do it like a grown up and deal with it in the arena!"

"Tch, the arena is the place that's immature... play fighting..."

"Speak for yourself, Sword Circus."

Ken choked, wanting to growl in sheer frustration. But something reality snapped back to him, forcing him to hold his head, seemingly pained. With that, Ken leapt away from the battlefield without a world, leaving "Nagi Springfield" to collapse into the arms of his "teacher".

* * *

A day later, a scarred man in an overcoat, sans his checkered top hat, stood in the alley, visibly pained, panting, arms planted into the wall as he tried to recollect himself.

Ken swore to himself, "I... did it again... my blood lust..."

There was the sound of feet shuffling the gravel and sand as they came to a stop near Itano Ken.

"You're still trying to fight your instincts, huh?"

Ken turned a glare towards Rakan, who stood with folded arms a bit back. The swordsman refused to fight him. He was not Nagi, and fighting him was suicide.

"What do you want...?" Kan whined.

"You dropped this."

Ken reached out a hand to grab a crumpled top hat that was tossed his way.

"Rakan, why are you defending some cheap impersonator?"

"Well, I think it'd be natural to try and save every poor fool who thinks pretending to be Nagi would be easy, from someone like you. What would my poor buddy think? That little brat from years back that he gave a hiding to, now pining after him and kicking down the doors of every poor con-man's soul? You know, I think Japan has a name for character archetypes like that... What was it? Yandere?"

"...You're avoiding the question."

"Hmph, touchy, are we? That Nagi there isn't as superfluous as you think. His name is Negi Springfield. He's his son."

"Son!?" Ken was startled by the revelation.

"Same, yet the different, right? Same enough to certainly make you enjoy that fight, I'm sure."

Ken snorted.

"Negi... that's the name of the fellow that took out the Messembria Port, or so it's been said."

"The kid's buddies are lost all over this world. Negi's found three of them, but they're stuck as debt slaves. That's why he's aiming to win the Nagi cup at the Ostia festival, a month from here."

"Surprisingly... noble."

"Yeah, what a guy." Rakan's lips curled a bit, in amusement, before straightening out, "After all these years, you're still trying so hard to stop killing, are you getting any better?"

"...Minus the Nagi bits, well..."

"Though in the end, even if the reasons are good ones, you've become attached to violence. You feel best swimming in it."

"Eugh..."

"Ken, it would be good to have you on our side, soon."

The scarred man chuckled cynically at that, "Bloodsport Fairy Tale has no place on any side. I'm working hard enough just trying to disappear into history."

"That's only if history could stay down. Ken, Cosmo Entellcheia's on the move again."

The name of that organization caused Ken to seize up, and he turned his gaze on Rakan.

"They're back? But he-"

"There's a new kid. He's calling himself Fate Averruncus, this time."

"So that's who's behind all the Gateports..." Ken deduced.

"The last one's at Ostia. Same place where the Nagi cup is going to be. If that's not a locale for a grand finale, I don't know what is. So what do you say, Ken? I need all the help Negi can get, at this time. We're in the middle of something big."

Ken pouted as he fixed the hat back onto his head, and leaned against the wall, "Well... I need to practice doing the right thing, I guess. Maybe I can make it up to the kid..."

"Yeah. But a proper match between you two may still be the best test the kid can have, after me. If you do join the Nagi cup, every one can be happy."

"Hmm. True. I guess I'll check out the festival then."

Rakan nodded, "Go on ahead to Ostia then, I'm gonna give the kid some training after the doctors finish patching him up. You didn't have to cut off his arm, did you?"

Ken shrugged, "I dunno. Seemed reasonable at the time."

"I'm sure it did."

* * *

**Name:** Unknown

**Known Aliases/Epithets: **Itano Ken, Jester of Ruin, Sword Circus, Bloodsport Fairy Tale, Apocalypse's Opening Act, Carnage Carnival.

**Weapon of Choice: **Sword Circus

**Admires:** Nagi Springfield

**Points of Interest:** Peculiar Facial Scars, Kankaho Proficiency

**Profession:** Psychopath (Semi-retired)


	3. Yasha Yaruna

**Yasha Yaruna**

* * *

_She wasn't particularly fond of Japanese convenience stores, but Yuji insisted on a simpler dinner tonight. He apparently had some work he wanted to get done by tomorrow._

Well, as long as it was a dinner together, she didn't really mind going out of her way, while he worked hard.

She managed to catch herself from giggling like some dopey schoolgirl, just because of some thought of dinner together with the person she'd been seeing for a few years now.

Funny, she never imagined herself ever noticing someone like Yuji, much less date him for as long as they have. But when she finally did, she finally got to see his good points, even if he was a bit more on the meek side than she would have liked. But he was generous, honest, kind...

Affectionate.

Yasha couldn't quite keep down the blush, then, as she walked back to the apartment with the plastic bags of cheap food and snacks.

Making it up to their floor and through the front door, she hollered down the small hall as she attempted to kick off her boots, with both her hands full as they were.

"Yuji! I got our dinner. Give me a hand here! Yuji!"

She called a few more times in futility, and then began to worry at the silence. The apartment was small, he had to have heard. But there was nothing. Yasha didn't even hear the sound of movement in the living room behind the closed sliding door down the short hall.

Her combat instincts dropped in, and frowning at the closed door, dropped her bags and silently made her way forward on bare feet. She wasn't armed at this point, but considering her proficiency at fighting, she was sure, if it was at worst, an inexperienced thief, she could take anything down with just her bare hands in these close quarters.

"Yuji?"

She drew open the door, steeling herself slightly in case of any attack.

But what she saw sucked out any sense of battle preparedness instantly, her body loosening up, and her eyes widening in utter shock.

All the lights were out. Yuji was lying still, slumped over face first on the coffee table he was sitting behind when she left. In the blue light of the moon shining through a window, a man in a white suit was finishing putting something glowing inside his white briefcase and snapping it shut.

"What did you do to Yuji!?"

The white suited man turned to her, regarding her in the way someone noticed a new piece of furniture in a friend's house he was visiting.

"You must be Ms. Yaruna. I was completing the contract with Mr. Nagato"

"Contract...!?"

Yasha ignored the man for now, rushing to Yuji's side, feeling for a pulse. There was none at all.

None at all. Yuji was...

The whole bluntness of the situation, the silence, it made it almost surreal. Yasha could only stare at the silent body, that was so peacefully unmarred it looked like Yuji was just sleeping.

"You... you killed him."

"The side effects during the extraction of a soul does include the cessation of all bodily functions."

"You killed him...!"

"I did."

There was such a rage in her as she listened to him calmly agree to everything that was happening. This person, who so calmly killed the person she loved. She turned her livid eyes at the man.

"YOU KILLED HIM!"

And as she jumped over the table, over Yuji's body, rushing at the suited man with her bare hands, there was but one thought in her mind.

I'll kill you.

-

-

-

The city of Elfenhof, in Mundus Magicus, was one of eleven cities that relished in the fact it was home of one of the Gateports that connected the their world the the Old World far away.

From the Gateport terminal, however, away from this center of almost tourist attraction, a woman walked away a bit sulkily.

She was, in a word, beautiful. Her face was fair, with stern red eyes that went with her crimson hair that went down her back in strands. Her features and her hair showed a of Western and Asian features, an exotic combination.

She was dressed entirely in black, and definitely unafraid of provocation. Under the trench coat she wore, she wore a brassier stylized as a small vest, the lapels covering her ribs, leaving some of her waist bare.

From there on, she wore a black skirt that came down her thighs, ending at the knees. Bare skin till halfway down the shins, which was where her black boots began, tough things that seen their fair share of walking around the worlds over. All of the clothes only worked to accentuate her adult curving figure, and her modest cleavage giving the male audience a generous but safe view of her femininity. Of course, there were those men that would most likely be more desiring to "see" with their hands, than their eyes.

Which was why her swords were also quite generously for view. Three blades forged in a Japanese style, each longer than the last, were strapped to her left side at the waist, while a fourth katana was separate at her right.

With that, the "look, don't touch" clause was quite suitably in place, and Yaruna Yasha left the Elfenhof Gateport, or at least what remained of it, and returned back to her hotel to make a phone call.

Throwing herself onto a chair, Yasha opened up a holographic screen, where she was met with a pleasant face.

"Hello, this is the Operating Board!"

"I need to call Headmistress Seras at Ariadne Academy, Ariadne."

"Name and location?"

"Ariadne Professor Yaruna Yasha. The Merriat Hotel in Elfenhof. Tell her it's from me."

"Just one moment, please."

Yasha sat in front of a terminal for a minute or two, listening to soothing music and watching images of nice boats crossing down the river and scenic tropical beach fronts. Then the terminal blinked in with a live feed of the Headmistress' office, the gracefully aged and horned woman in feminine cut office clothing, sitting behind her large desk.

"Professor, I wasn't expecting a call from you so soon."

"Headmistress. I'm still at Elfenhof."

Headmistress Seras stared at Yasha almost dumbly for a second before sighing, rubbing her head.

"Even the Gateport, there..."

"Blown up like everything else. Looks like I won't be able to do that research trip in Rome." Yasha tried not to snap.

"I'm sorry, Yasha. I know you were looking forward to the trip..."

"Tell me about it. I spent months talking up sponsors up and down, trying to get myself the permits and grants to find this artifact. And now I can't! In fact, because of something I didn't even do, I have to go back to all of them and apologize and explain why I'm still here and not in Rome!"

"Yasha, calm down."

The redheaded woman sighed, took a deep breath and leaned on the terminal, venting her rage through her elbow into the table.

"Alright... alright, I'm fine."

"Don't worry about the money or the sponsors. They'll understand if we talk it over. Nobody expected something like this to happen."

"I have to go back to Ariadne, right?" Yasha said in a tone that was almost half-annoyed and half-whining.

"You can't run away from teaching forever, Yasha. I don't see why you're so worried, anyways. You teach well enough, and I hear all the time how much the students like you. The qualifying races for Valkyrie cadets are in a matter of weeks, anyways. I'm sure they'd love to see you attend in your usual, "cool, spicy, and aloof" nature."

"Ugh. I'm not that good of a teacher." Yasha tried to argue, "Besides, I just don't take well to people. Kids, no less. Why am I the role model?"

Yasha wasn't quite sure where her being so popular came from, given how much she tried to skip out on the "teaching" part of being a professor. All she wanted was to research history and artifacts.

She was already unsociable enough already when she met Yuji... if it weren't for this job, she probably would have decided to be by her lonesome, 24/7. But now she was waist deep in brats and colleagues.

"Probably precisely because you don't go out of your way to be admirable, you just are." Seras smirked.

"Ah-ha." Yasha dryly laughed back, before returning to business, "Either way, I'm going to have to get back to the Academy from here. There's no direct flight from here to Ariadne, but I can get back on a route via Hellas, or via Moeris, then Zephyria."

"That's just as well. I'm sure you'd want to get something done this trip. Can I ask you to go to Hellas? There's something there I need to have picked up."

"As long as it's not your wardrobe or something, I don't mind going. I'd like to see how the place is doing, anyways."

"So long as you don't spend a week trying to avoid coming back to your darling students, Professor."

"Of course. Otherwise I'd be stuck getting an earful from you, again." Yasha snorted, before hanging up.

-

-

-

The next day, Yasha had already gotten a ticket for the first flight to Hellas, and was at the airport at the outskirts of the city. Her airship was named _London Bridge. _It was another behemoth shaped like a whale, with furnishings that went from 3-star to outright first class, depending on how much one wanted to pay for comfort in their long distance trip.

Yasha didn't like to think of herself as an impulsive person, but she had money to burn along with the last vestiges of her bad temper about the destroyed Gateport. She was very much expecting a complimentary glass of champagne in her room when she got there.

Of course, when she got there, now that her passage towards airship was stopped by a small security team.

"Miss, I'm sorry, but I can't have you pass any further here with your weaponry."

Yasha gave a discontent stare at the uniformed man in front of her, before looking over his shoulder for a second.

A five man team, built for light airport security regarding magical matters. Probably a seal specialist and a bruiser, etc.

She was just sizing up the situation as a matter of course. It wasn't like she was actually entertaining the thought of fighting. Now.

Yasha turned back to the man who stopped her, flipping some of her hair back lazily with her head, "Why?"

"It's due to the recent terrorist incidents. We're stepping up security until the situation is resolved. Because of that, I have to ask to turn in the majority of the weapons for the course of the flight, ma'am. We'll allow you to keep one of your swords for self-defense, of course, but the rest will have to sealed away until you reach your destination."

Yasha continued to stare a hole into the man's face, not quite outright snarling, but the look in her eyes was surely not one of accepting compliance.

"...Fine."

Her arms rough grabbed for her sheathed blades. One encased in red, another in black, one in blue, with its yellow tassels...

Yasha kept hold of the smallest, a single katana, unique in that its scabbard and lacquer wood grip were covered in Egyptian hieroglyphics, despite the make of the blade.

"I'll hang onto this, if you please."

"Of course, ma'am, anything else?"

"Of course not." Yasha shot back, irritated. When the guards finally excused her, she brushed her way through them, stepping heavily towards the departure gate. As a woman, Yasha might be considered a bit petty. She didn't like the thought of three of her swords being stuffed away by incompetent packers or even lost in the shipping. Valuable blades that she devoted 100 percent care to making sure they were at their best (and hence, vice versa.)

So yeah, thanks a lot, you unhelpful jerks. Just hide my swords away.

And that was why Yasha decided to keep it to herself that she noted two darkened shapes running into the _London Bridge_ while it was still docked on the ground, and kept on climbing up the steps until she boarded.

-

-

-

An airship of _London Bridge_'s size couldn't fly very high up, with the combined weight of both itself and its passenger and cargo. Because of that, those who would look out the window would not find themselves eternally enveloped in clouds. Looking down, rather, would treat one to the sight of the world below having all the appearance of a game of Sim City.

Of course, Yasha wasn't really interested in views. At most, she was glad that if she was somehow hurled off the thing, she would have a better chance of surviving (and a lot of hard work), than she would being tossed up higher up.

That fact of course, was tucked away in the back of her head, while she lazed about on her large bed in her miniature suite, face buried in the sheets, her hair splayed out everywhere, her sword also thrown onto the bed and by her side. Her coat was thrown against a nearby chair, and her boots lay about at the bottom of the one hand that dangled over the edge, Yasha's glass of champagne remained perilously swirled in its flute glass.

Now with nothing to disturb her, Yasha's thoughts returned to the two figures only she noticed as she boarded. Who were they? What reason would someone need to stowaway on a ship like this?

Stowing away came with both being free, or not being seen. Did the two people not have any money, or did they not want to be seen?

This only a day after the Gateport was destroyed...

Yasha sat up.

Could it be? It could explain why they didn't want to be seen, at all. Even eyewitnesses while leaving on an airship would leave a trail.

Of course, Yasha couldn't confirm any of this. But she could always ask them herself. Alone, it wouldn't cause as much trouble, and she was quite sure where to find stowaways.

She slid her glass onto a table, slid of the bed, and jammed her feet into her boots.

Talk to them herself, and it should be fine. And if they were the terrorists that screwed up her trip, she'd just give her a few hidings.

She slid into her coat, and she grabbed her Egyptian sword.

-

-

-

There was an elevator that went down into the cargo holds that Yasha took. Normally it was off bounds, but the on duty guard was little more than a glorified teenage porter, who probably expected most of this job to revolve around merely warding away passengers.

It was a simple matter for Yasha to simply glare her way through, and turn behind to say, "Don't tell anyone."

At the bottom, the elevator doors opened up again to a dimly lit over sized room that probably was the entire length of the ship. Even if the cargo hold wasn't fully packed, it was still a veritable maze of packaged security boxes that made up stacks of varying sizes, pressed up against the wall, or held down with nets in a middle row along the holds, carving out little paths among the packages.

Yasha made her way in one direction. If her orientation was correct, she was headed towards the back of the _London Bridge_, where the majority of the cargo was loaded through.

"Dah! What are we gonna do, Setsuna?" A voice emanated towards her, a young energetic voice.

"I'm not sure. We've got away for now, but this was terrible timing..."

Apparently they didn't hear Yasha's approach, as the two voices continued to discuss to themselves fairly audibly. Taking a few high steps, the professor climbed up a few levels on a hill of crates. Sitting on one and leaning on the next level, head cushioned lazily by her elbow, Yasha looked down from her vantage point.

Her two stowaways were a pair of girls dressed more like a pair of middle-school students on summer vacation would be, back in her Old World. The more exuberant one was somehow fittingly outfitted with a bundle of orange hair in two tails, done up with bell adorned ties. Yasha couldn't tell from here, but it seemed her two eyes... was one a different color?

"Setsuna", likewise could be easily guessed out as the other's much calmer peer, with paler skin in contrast to her short dark hair that sat to one side of her head in a variation of a ponytail.

The two of them were sighing on their "seats" that they pulled from the stacks of cargo. A lamp sat on along a row of crates, giving them a bit more illumination. To Yasha's interest, a long, white Shirazaya with a blue cord tied to one end, lay on Setsuna's lap, a position surely denoting much care given to it by its owner.

"I'm hungry... dagh, and we didn't even get a chance to eat!" The more rambunctious whined loudly.

"We shouldn't have gone to such a large city..."

"Hey, it's not like we knew this city had a Gateport. Sure, we're fugitives, but as long as we didn't start any trouble, we wouldn't have any attention directed at us. Maybe we could have even explained what's going on."

"All we have now is more material to accuse us with..."

"And we didn't even get to eat...!"

"Yes, I heard the first time, Asuna."

"Hmph. I wonder how everyone else is doing."

Setsuna sat very silent for a few seconds. Asuna looked at her friend more carefully, worried.

"...Setsuna?"

To Yasha's surprise, Setsuna suddenly started blubbering.

"Ojou-sama...! Please be safe!"

"Dah! Stop that! Konoka'll be fine!"

"B-but she's all alone! How can I protect her if she's... I don't know... KONO-CHAAA-"

"Sssshhh-!"

Asuna went to grab her friend, clamping a hand over Setsuna's mouth while she went on weeping unintelligibly.

Huh, so this is what happens when one finally starts drawing water from a rock.

Either way, Yasha heard enough. She recognized the two of them now. Their faces were recorded on the day the Megalo-Messembria gate port went up. The prices on them were only second to the alleged mastermind of the attack. Attacks, rather.

People like them were better somewhere safely tucked away under some watchful eye than out there, causing trouble.

"Troubles, girls?"

She watched them look up at her in surprise, Setsuna jumping to her feet with her sword at his hip, ready to draw at any moment. Asuna on the other hand, seemed to have a hand in one of her pockets, for some reason.

Yasha wasn't sure what she was intending to do, but all the same, just because she couldn't see her drawing anything long, sharp, or pointy, didn't mean it was harmless.

_(-She collapsed onto the floor, her immobile body a pile of limbs as she stared, drowning in such a bitter rage as she couldn't do anything other than scream obscenities, scream at the top of her lungs at her own uselessness, screamed at his white back as he simply exited out the front door and shut the door behind him-)_

"When did she-!?"

"Who are you!?"

She shrugged off the flash of memory, it's sourness nothing more refined than a wine she could drink from anytime she wished.

"Name's Yasha, to you two. Heard some pretty interesting things you were saying. And I saw your faces before."

"Are you a Bounty Hunter?" Setsuna accused.

"I'm a teacher."

That seemed to boggle Asuna's mind, "A teacher!?"

"Yeah, and a very bad one." Yasha stood up on her crates, towering above the two, "But even then, I don't think I can let my school be endangered by globally roving terrorists like you."

Well, not like Yasha could prove it, but whatever. They're still wanted.

"If you were really spying on us, where you even listening to anything we were saying?" Asuna demanded, with an indignantly pointed finger, "We had nothing to do with the Gate Ports or whatever happened in that last city!"

"Yeah, and you're sneaking away like a crook because you obviously aren't. It doesn't matter what really happened. The longer your faces are up on a poster, the more trouble you'll cause anywhere you'll go. Do the smart thing and turn yourselves in."

"That's not something we can allow. The reasons are complicated, but most of all, we need to find our friends." Setsuna answered.

Yasha's eyes narrowed the slightest.

"I can also do the smart thing and turn you guys in, when we arrive at Hellas." Her hand moved to the sword she had at her side. Even without a full arsenal, she was sure she could take them. They were still kids.

That got Setsuna and Asuna ready to be all up in arms, again. Asuna was particularly belligerent, waving a fist at Yasha up above.

"You just try it! No matter how good you are, we're not gonna be stopped by someone like you... you... middle aged lady!"

That was it. Asuna just declared total war with no prisoners.

She was twenty five, anyways. That's hardly old.

Yasha pulled her Egyptian katana free, shouting aloud.

"ANUBIS!"

She spun around in her unsheathing swing, a gust of wind whipping outward, rattling the pile of crates she was on.

Setsuna and Asuna stood ready, but also momentarily confused at the nothing that happened immediately after.

Yasha gripped her sword with both hands, raising it to on side of her head.

Just then, fastenings on the bottom of the stack snapped in two. The crates began to rock. Yasha leaned forward. The giant mound of cargo storage toppled forward towards Asuna and Setsuna and in a thunderous crash, the two were separated by thrown dust and crates haphazardly collapsed on the path between them.

"Setsuna-!" Cough, cough. Asuna tried calling again, but the dust in the air couldn't let her see or shout very well, lest more lint ran down her throat. Asuna pulled out the card that was in her pocket.

"Adeat!" She demanded of it in Latin. In a flash of light, the piece of card paper was replaced with Ensis Exorcizans, her massive, sleek, single edged broadsword that was as long as she was tall. Just in time, too: as the "terrorist" hefted her sword, the shroud of dust next to her split in two, letting Asuna glimpse Yasha lunging out of it, both hands on her Anubis.

Asuna flung up her sword in defense, letting the katana slam against the flat of Ensis. For a second, Yasha's face admitted a look of shock, before it clammed up her her steely gaze.

"Anubis-?"

Asuna wasn't paying attention, though.

"Yooou...!"

With Yasha still locked onto the flat of her sword, Asuna heaved her weapon, with unbelievable strength, upward through the air in an arc. The older woman went slamming into the slab of metal, picked up, and hurled tumbling away through the air.

Yasha was far from off guard, though, and a simple flip returned her orientation back onto her feet as she landed. Setsuna was already upon her, taking a flying leap off a layer of crates towards Yasha, Yuunagi at her hip, about to be unsheathed.

"Shinmeiryuu Ougi: Raimeiken!"

Setsuna's sword opened up in a shower of crackling, electrified Ki that covered the length of the blade. For most, it was an attack too fast for most to do any more than defend. For Yasha, though, she simply sneered.

"Shinmeiryuu again..."

Yasha's arms were already moving to meet Setsuna with a heavy double handed swing. Anubis smashed down into Yuunagi with a complete lack of grace, knocking the sword and all its ki askew, and sending Setsuna planting face first into the floor boards right in front of Yasha.

Setsuna's shock quickly abated to let her concentrate on rolling away from her opponent, and back onto her feet. From there, she lashed back at Yasha one more time, swinging as hard as she could with both hands-

Yasha blocked it cold with her sword. That was held with one hand.

Now Setsuna was even more shocked. Deflecting a Shinmeiryuu attack was perhaps skill or luck, but blocking her larger sword, being swung with both hands, in such an off hand manner? Yasha should have at least been knocked off balance...!

The professor's expression moved from Bored to Burning as she surged forward, her Egyptian blade ringing across Yuunagi, toward Setsuna. The "terrorist"'s eyes widened, and broke away, bringing her sword in front of her to defend. Yasha gave off two quick swipes, neither seeming to hit anything but air as Setsuna jumped back to Asuna.

Setsuna's hair-tie snapped in two, leaving her short hair to spill back against her neck, and a noticeable slice in her shirt appeared. She cursed at the same time Yasha smirked, and returned to holding Anubis with both hands.

"Hey! You jerk! Stop screwing around with us like that!" Asuna shouted from behind, seeing how easily Setsuna was dealt with. She began to pick up the slack in lieu of her partner, when she was stopped by Setsuna's voice.

"Asuna, don't attack her blindly! That sword's an artifact!"

"Huh?"

Setsuna's eyes narrowed on Yasha and her sword, "There's no way she could have parried those so flawlessly, or cut me without injury like that... that sword must be able to recognize attacks, and ignore obstacles, somehow... She's not taking us seriously, if she gave away her advantages like this..."

Asuna frowned, "So what!? I'll just beat her up for thinking she's so fancy!"

"We'll both need to take her at once."

With that, Asuna suddenly rushed past Setsuna towards their opponent, while the Shinmeiryuu swordswoman dashed out of view into another aisle.

Yasha ran up to meet Asuna first, who chopped down as hard as she could. The professor stepped aside to dodge a blow that was strong enough to pulverize the wood, before quickly slashing forward at Asuna, who brought the end of her Ensis closer to herself up.

As fine steel hit heavy metal again, Yasha glared. There was none of her weapon passing through as Setsuna correctly assumed it should have.

"Again... this weapon cancels magic, right?"

"So what!?" Asuna shot back from the other side of the locked swords.

"'So what'? Such a powerful artifact in the negligent hands of a terrorist! You don't deserve such a weapon... I want your sword."

"What, as if you have a better use for it!?"

"Of course!"

_A weapon that cancels magic. Could it be enough to fight him...?_

"Well, I'm already using it to kick your butt!"

"You don't even know what you're talking about!" Yasha spat back, before she broke off, slamming her foot into the flat of Asuna's sword, making the younger girl stumble back with cry of surprise. Yasha dashed forward, slashing away while Asuna barely managed to maneuver Ensis Exorcizans about to keep herself untouched.

"You don't even know how to use that thing! It's just a slab of magic canceling metal in your hands-!"

Then came Setsuna's voice from behind, rushing towards her.

"Shinmeiryuu Hiken-"

Yasha spun around, scoffing, "And your idea of tactics is to use Hyakka Ryōran at close range!?"

Setsuna was point blank with her sheathed Yuunagi when Yasha ripped into her with full strength. Setsuna gave a scream of pain as Anubis slid cleanly through her arm. For a second, the heart underneath Yasha's stern warrior appearance stopped with horror, that as a teacher, she had just harmed a minor. She overestimated Setsuna's ability with the sword!? She thought she would have defended-

But immediately Yasha's instincts told her something was off.

Setsuna didn't even move to adjust to defend. Why did she move so obviously? The sensation of the sword tearing into her arm felt more like-

There was a plume of smoke, and Yasha found Anubis sailing through empty air, with on either side of slash, two halves of a slip of paper floated away, the remainders of a Japanese incantation on both.

"A shikigami-!?"

"You're open...!"

Yasha twisted back around to see Asuna swinging with all her strength towards Yasha's side. The redheaded woman only had time to raise sword to keep Asuna's own from connecting directly with her. But with Anubis unable memorize the strength and speed of Ensis Exorcizans, and magically match it, Yasha was once more in the lay of physics, with a giant heavy metal object hitting a metal object that slammed back into the chest of an averagely weighted woman.

She went flying through a stack of crate containers. It added a slight tumble to her flight.

Landing on her back in another pathway, Yasha blearily made it to her feet with a bit of effort, the first good hit making her head spin a bit. But as she regained her vision, she found herself staring at Setsuna down the path, with a full compliment of 16 wakizashi floating about her.

For a moment, Yasha attempted to blink the number out of her eyes, hoping she was seeing wrong.

"Sica Shishikushiro!"

At Setsuna's command, the blades pointed forward and propelled themselves at the temperamental Ariadne professor. Yasha audibly growled in distaste at the approaching attack, and gripped Anubis in both hands. As the swarm of blades descended upon her, Yasha immediately retreated backwards, swinging her blade to and fro, knocking away as many of them as she could, spinning about to defend herself from as many angles as she could see. But even with the ability to memorize the speed of Setsuna's artifact from a single blow, there were too many to keep track of, or even follow with her own human eyes.

One flew past Yasha's legs and stabbed the ends of her trenchcoat, violently dragging her, surprised, backwards into a stack of containers, where upon it left Yasha pinned. Before Yasha could recover, another jammed itself through the folds of her right sleeve, flinging her arm back into another pin with enough force to make her lose her grip on her sword, letting Anubis clatter to the ground. And some 14 other blades came forth in turn, stabbing through loose cloth and embedding into the sealed wood boxes, by the end, leaving the professor trapped flush against the wall.

Yasha continued to struggle out of her pins, but to no avail, while making all kinds of agonized, frustrated noises. Asuna and Setsuna approached her somewhat cautiously.

"So... now what?" Asuna couldn't help but realize.

"We need to restrain her."

"There's rope somewhere, I think...!"

"Hey! Don't act like you've won! Damnit!"

Yasha swore and struggled against the near impeccable hold Setsuna's short swords had on her. Asuna grimaced at the display.

"You're a sore loser, too!? I can't believe this! This wasn't even such a big deal!"

"I want that sword! Gragh... FUCK!"

Not that Asuna or Setsuna would ever understand, but all her life, Yasha had always been a competitive type, in some form or other. The life changing events in her past only warped and strengthened that resolve.

Yasha couldn't let herself lose again, be helpless in defeat, miss her chance and now hunt him down to make him pay for who knows how many years...

Being pinned down to a wall, unable to move like back then, didn't help her forget the memory either.

Yasha stared through the bangs of her red hair, piercing the terrorists with such eyes of ire and sheer emotion, that they were unnerved for a second.

"You. Haven't. Won!"

Yasha kicked upward, and Setsuna and Asuna realized too late that they forgot about Anubis on the floor. Or maybe it was because they unconsciously assumed Yasha was a swordswoman so long as her arms were free.

The Egyptian sword was picked up in the harsh kick, sending it awkwardly twirling backwards towards its owner.

It got even more surreal for Asuna and Setsuna when the handle fell perfectly between Yasha's bared teeth.

Yasha swung the blade with all the strength in her neck, and in the next instant, all the crates about her broke apart in a gust as finely sliced portions. The Sica Shishikushiro on her also fell off her clothes, letting them clatter all across the ground before dissipating.

Glaring at the two, Yasha recognized a bundle of presences behind her, in the boxes she had just savaged to free herself.

_I won't ever lose. Ever again._

Reaching behind her shoulders, Yasha plunged her hands into the half-standing pile of wood. Straining slightly, Yasha wrenched out three more Japanese blades, scattering timber everywhere.

A blue scabbard with yellow tassels, a black scabbard, a red scabbard tipped with gold.

The blue and black slid into a hold by her left hip, along with Anubis' empty sheath, while the red went isolated by her right.

Anubis still in her mouth, and her hands free, Yasha grabbed the two new swords on her left hip and pulled them free. Asuna and Setsuna backed a step at the brandishing of three swords at them.

Yasha herself, didn't wait though. Just a growl, before she propelled herself towards them. Asuna reacted quickly, bringing Ensis upwards to chop downwards on the woman. Yasha twirled three times. The first to barely miss the sword that went into the floor, the second to swing a foot onto the back of Asuna's weapon, and the third to bring all her strength into a snap kick that went into Asuna's face.

Bells tinkled as Asuna fell onto her back, giving a shriek of pain, while Yasha simply jumped over her, and dashed towards Setsuna next. The Shinmeiryuu warrior slashed at Yasha's side, who locked the blade up with her own crossed in an X. Yasha slid the lock forward across the length of Yuunagi as she ran, while Anubis in her mouth came closer and closer Setsuna's face. Before the two made contact, one of Setsuna's hands left Yuunagi and conjured up one of her wakizashi, blocking Yasha strange angle of attack, while leaving the two to struggle, hand and mouth.

From behind, Asuna was back on her feet, waving her giant sword. Yasha broke off to turn and and duck under the attack and counter. Setsuna jumped back to give herself ample space as she focused her Ki once more.

"Hien Battō Kasumi-kiri!"

A barrage of slashing motions flew towards Yasha, who turned around, wildly glaring, and forcing a willful voice from her mind towards one of her swords.

_Yamato!_

A vicious swipe into the air towards Setsuna with the sword released something barely visible, crescent and streaking forwards, a cut flying across space. It cut through all of Setsuna's attacks and smashed into Setsuna's swords with enough force to send her flying through the air with a yelp.

"Why you...!"

Yasha twisted back to Asuna, gripping her other sword hard.

_Shana!_

Yasha slashed upwards, Asuna dodging the tip that just nearly nicked her chin. Her eyes nearly bulged out in shock, when she stumbled away to dodge a sizable pyre of flames that followed and erupted from the sword she just dodged. Embers licked the ceiling and floor, and in response, a shrill whine came through the room, along with a torrent of water pouring down thick from magically powered sprinkler systems.

Asuna seethed at the unpleasant feeling of being soaked in lukewarm water, all her clothes now weighing a hundred pounds more, and water getting into her eyes, and into her hair which would get into her eyes.

In the torrent, Asuna lost track of the evil, evil professor, who's disappearance was only marked by a heavy sloshing of feet leaving in a direction. With a cry, she chased after the noise. Within a few short meters, she managed to make out a soaking shape carrying a katana.

"Taaaake THIS!" Asuna punctuated with her Ensis.

The soaking silhouette dodged once, before exclaiming, "Wait, Asuna! It's me!"

Asuna was barely able to pick it up between the bells and the sputtering of water crashing into the ground, but she stopped and shouted aloud in confusion.

"Set-chan!?"

"Yes!"

"I can hardly see or hear you in all this!"

"She probably intended that when she set off the alarms. And there might be people coming down to check!"

"She. is. EVIL!"

"We have to be careful! She's going to use this cover to attack us!"

"How? She can't see us either in this!"

Yasha couldn't really, in spite of the various capabilities her swords have been granting her till now. But she was fairly good at guessing.

And besides, it wasn't like she was going to be aiming specifically at them, now that she had her chance.

Drenched by the rain, but no less impassioned, Yasha twisted the hold on her weapons so she could drive them backhanded into the wood flooring. She grabbed the white woven grip on her right hip, pulling it free to hold it with two hands.

_Ginzo._

Magic concentrated to the back of the red and gold scabbard the sword just came from. The gold tipping released a pair of latches that now stood perpendicular to the length of the scabbard, as if they were crossguards. Which they were.

Yasha reached behind her back to pull out the second sword out of the back of scabbard the first came from. Sparks of power jumped between the two new blades as Yasha crossed them. Light poured onto the blades as they separated. From there, they went into a sweeping arc to either side of her, until they were both raised high above her head.

Yasha slashed down, letting the energy fly off the Ginzo, a line of power nearly as tall as her, sweeping through and tearing up everything in it's path, missing Asuna and Setsuna by a mile, and colliding into the back wall of the cargo storage room in a massive detonation.

The back wall was also the closed heavy duty loading ramp.

While the ball of fire and smoke was quickly washed down, the gaping hole it left quickly grew from pressure imbalances and growing air resistance, until, a few second later, the whole thing simply tore off its securing latches and swung out into the open air. The strong suction of air, began dragging everything to be tossed out the back, while more sirens and now flashing lights were added to the mix.

Water, crates, smoke, flew out, and Asuna and Setsuna struggled to stand against the wind. Then came Yasha with Yamato and Shana back in her hands. The blazing red head charged at Setsuna specifically, bringing all her blades down on her, which Setsuna expertly parried, before the two fell into a rapid succession of attacks and counter attacks. By the end, Setsuna's vertical chop was stopped by Yasha's crossed swords again. Then Yasha swung Anubis with her mouth, sideways.

And since Yuunagi was not Ensis Exorcizans, Setsuna's eyes widened as she watched the Egyptian artifact simply slide right through the three interlocked blades toward her neck.

Setsuna forced Yasha back and tilted her head back enough just to let the blade miss. But by then it was too late. Off balance, and in the vast winds, Setsuna fell onto her back and helplessly rolled off the ramp and into the air.

Asuna looked on with shock for a second, before turning to Yasha with bared teeth, "How could you...!?"

Yasha couldn't really answer, simply staring fixedly on the remaining opponent, both their hair whipping in the wind wildy.

Asuna attacked first. With all the open space about them, Asuna's heavy swings now came from even more angles, while Yasha ducked and swung around each of them. After a while, Yasha swung about, her back facing the recess of the ship, while Asuna had her back to the open hatch again. Then, the unheard command caused Shana to ignite in a spiral of flame about it's edged core, while the Yamato seemed to shimmer blue, waiting for something.

"You know that's not going to knock me off!" Asuna shouted into the wind, brandishing her weapon.

Yasha shrugged, before simply bringing both her blades into the floor, super-cutting steel hammering on top of super heated steel, and slashing in opposite directions across the floor between Asuna and Yasha.

The floor groaned, and Asuna choked.

"You've got to be kidding-!"

The floor wasn't kidding. The loading ramp that dangled in the wind, along with a good few feet of the floor of the _London Bridge_ it was hinged to, separated in front of Yasha, hurling itself, and the Asuna atop it, into space.

In mid air, Asuna screamed for a good five seconds as the only thing she was in contact with was her giant sheet of metal.

After the five seconds, Asuna found her descent suddenly halted when she was hoisted up, wedding style, by Setsuna who now had her white wings on her back.

"Are you alright!?" Was the first thing that came out of Asuna's mouth in worry for her friend.

Setsuna grunted with some effort, "I'm fine! Asuna, cancel your artifact! It's heavy!"

"Oh, right! Abeat!"

Ensis Exorcizans returned to its card form, while the two terrorists descended from the damaged airship in a spiraling swoop towards the jungle on the ground.

"So, where do we go from here? That crazy lady kicked us out of our ride!"

"Let's just focus on getting to the ground first."

Since Setsuna was in charge of that operation, Asuna couldn't do much more than shrug and keep quiet so that her friend could do her job.

As she followed the leaving airship, and it's sirens and hemorrhaging debris, she then noticed a red and black speck also leaving.

Asuna felt a cold chill run up her spine as she considered what it was, and dearly hoped in her mind that she was just imagining things.

She wasn't.

"She's coming after us!"

"What!?"

"Setsuna! She... that crazy lady is... she's jumping after us! What's with her!? Setsuna, we have to do something!"

"What? I can't fight carrying you, and even you with your artifact is too heavy!"

"But we can't just sit here and do nothing-"

That was when Yasha's feet slammed into the back of Setsuna's head and the middle of her back, at the speed of 9.8 meters per second.

-

-

-

"...Oh god, the Principal is gonna kill me for this."

That was the words used to wake Asuna up. As her fuzzy mind cleared, her ears picked the shriek of jungle wildlife about her. She groaned, shook her head a bit to try and straighten the mess out in there, and found her self seated against a tree, her hands tied behind her back, Setsuna also beginning to stir awake, and in the same condition as her.

In front of her was Yasha's back, as she clutched her head, agonizing at the vapor trail in the sky above her and disappearing into the high foliage of the jungle they were in.

On the ground next to the professor was Yuunagi, and their two Pactio cards. Asuna's mouth went before her brain, naturally.

"Hey! You crazy lady! Give our stuff back! You JERK!"

Yasha turned around, droll faced.

"You're awake."

Setsuna was, too, as she blinked her confusion and most of the pain away.

"What do you want from us...!?"

"There's a lot I want from the two of you."

"We're not terrorists...!" Setsuna growled.

"Well, yeah, I know that."

Asuna stared.

"...What?"

"I could tell by the way you two fought. I've fought people who tried to kill me before, you know. They... move different. I still want your sword, you know."

"W-What!? It's mine! It's my Pactio!"

"Yeah... yeah." Yasha sighed to herself, "They're coming younger and younger... Why do you deserve this weapon anyways? You two are terrible swordswomen."

Setsuna was very insulted by that, "What!?"

"Well, not so much you. You still have a problem with putting the necessary strength into your attacks. Actually, that's weird. You're demonic somewhere, right? The wings? In Shinmeiryuu?"

Setsuna looked away, "So?"

"It's just weird. With that kinda strength, two handed on a sword your size, it should have been no problem matching me at your age. You've got a problem."

Yasha turned to Asuna, "As for you. You just suck."

"Hey!"

"Do you even have any proper training? You have insane strength and some great reflexes, but if you don't have any foundation, then you don't have basic knowledge about how to move against an opponent, or how to react to an opponent moving against you with the same basics."

Yasha picked up Asuna's card, "I'm holding onto this until I'm sure that you're terrible as a swordswoman, and not as... an idiot."

Asuna frowned, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Yasha shrugged, "It's not like I can just leave you two here, right? We're all getting out of here, and while I'm with you guys, I'm gonna straighten you two out, so I don't have to get nauseous at the sight of you two and your terrible sword work."

"So... you beat us up... so you can teach us?"

The word "teach" froze Yasha cold, before she smacked her palm into her forehead.

"Er... yeah... yeah, I guess I'm teaching you two."

Setsuna looked back at Yasha, a bit reluctant, "I guess I have no choice..."

Yasha groaned inwardly. Her and her impulsiveness.

She was trying to blow off steam on wannabe-terrorists. Why is it kept turning things into an opportunity for a lesson...!?

-

-

-

**Name:** Yasha Yaruna

**Weapon of Choice: **Anubis, Yamato, Nietono no Shana, Ginzo.

**Hobbies: **Sword Collecting

**Points of Interest:** Eurasian (Russian-Japanese), Short Temper, Revenge Story

**Profession:** Ariadne Academy History Professor


	4. Justus Faustus

**Justus Faustus**

**

* * *

**

_Doctor Faustus would fain omit or neglect naught pleasant and good unto the flesh. One midnight towards the end of the twenty-second year of his pact, while lying awake, he took thought again of Helen of Greece, whom he had awakened for the students on Whitsunday in Shrovetide (which we reported) . Therefore, when morning came, he informed his spirit that he must present Helen to him, so that she might be his concubine. _

_This was done, and Helen was of the following description (Doctor Faustus had a portrait made of her) : Her body was fine and erect, well-proportioned, tall, snow-white and crystalline. She had a complexion which seemed tinted with rose, a laughing demeanor, gold-yellow hair which reached almost to the calves of her legs, and brilliant laughing eyes with a sweet, loving gaze. Her nose was somewhat long, her teeth white as alabaster. In summa, there was not a single flaw about her body. Doctor Faustus beheld her and she captured his heart. He fell to frolicking with her, she became his bedfellow, and he came to love her so well that he could scarcely bear a moment apart from her. _

_While fond Faustus was living with Helen, she swelled up as were she with child. Doctor Faustus was rapturously happy, for, in the twenty-third year of his pact, she bare him a son whom he called Justus Faustus. This child told him many I things out of the future history of numerous lands. _

_Later, When Faustus lost his life, there was none who knew whither wife and child were gone._

_-_Goethe's Faust,_ "Concerning the Beautiful Helen from Greece, How She Lived for a Time With Doctor Faustus"._

_-_

_-_

_-_

Her full name was Evangeline Athansia Katherine McDowell.

It was a regal name. A name, that used in full force, could demand awe and respect. A noble name.

Naturally, it only added to Evangeline's anxiety about her vampirism. Her name, and her immense powers, contrasted rather unwell with her physique, what with being trapped in a ten year old body.

Like any Vampire, or indeed, any person who was over the age of 13, Evangeline wanted to be treated with utmost respect as deserving her position. But being who she is, she still worries that nobody will take her seriously, looking like a little girl.

This has lead to major overcompensating on her part to gain the necessary respect and beyond that she feels will cement her safety.

And when I mean "overcompensating", I mean, to the point Evangeline at some point in the 18th century, ditched Magia Ereba, because she could _freeze hell over on her own power._

That and being evil. Evil, evil, evil, and with more epithets than one can remember.

"Doll Master", "Maga Nosferatu", "Dark Evangel", "Tidings of Evil", "Visitation of Woe", "JESUS CHRIST, IT'S A VAMPIRE, GET IN THE CAR."

Etc.

That being said, Eva was stuck in a cycle of going out of her way in being evil for the sake of looking evil, because that was the best way to look after herself.

This is the part, 20 years back, when this train of thought was about to bite her in the butt, as well have a head on collision with puppy love.

20 years back, Evangeline Athansia Katherine Mcdowell was in Monaco, Spain. The year was 1974, and she was being evil and harassing complete assholes.

The victim in question was a business magnate named Johann Asgard. He was a multi-billionaire that owned several businesses world-wide, ranging from staplers to research into hybrid fuels. It seemed no matter where it took his imagination, Johann seemed to turn out a massive profit from it. At a glance, it seemed to be inhumanly good luck.

For Evangeline, it was an easily recognizable matter of the man dabbling in the occult to get his success.

It was a matter of principle that Eva was disgusted by such an abuse of magic, and the general tastelessness in that it was all for petty money greed, and thus decided that such a man was too stupid to live.

And, once more, this was why Evangeline was at Johann's giant 3 floor country mansion in Monaco, located a good few hours away from the city, which was a gaudy display of gold wreathing, Greco-Roman imitation architecture, some Versailles, big windows, mirrored hallways, and really big gardens.

There had been some security detail when Eva arrived in the middle of the night, of course, but it was only eight men against some fifty to a hundred handcrafted string operated puppets that alternated between being no higher than your shin, to being fully life-sized.

With nobody left, Johann, a 50 year old gentleman with wrinkles and a thinning layer of dark hair, ran down a hall towards his private office. Behind him was Evangeline, walking barefoot in a fluttering black summer dress, and black painted nails, laughing hysterically at the pitiful display of prey trying to escape her by running towards a dead end. Her eyes, though blue, were washed out and almost gray, barely reflective. All the life, color, and innocence had already been strained out of her.

Johann burst through the great oak double doors of his office and slammed them shut. He then reached towards a large bookshelf next to the doors, and with all the strength he could muster, managed to thrown down the heavy, book bloated furniture across the entrance, sealing it shut.

With that, Johann paced into the middle of his grand study, digging into his pockets to unearth his cellphone. Johann mashed down a certain phone number before he brought it to his ear, cursing under his breath at the dial tone.

"Damn it! Where are you...!? Pick it up!"

A few seconds later, a voice on the other side came through, made of ice wrapped in velvet, and utterly bored and aware it sounded like that.

"Yes-"

"GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE-!" Johann angrily snarled into the mouthpiece.

Then the double doors behind him exploded, sending wood and bits of book everywhere, and tossing Asgard into his desk, where he caught onto it with his hands, and made a loud choking gaps of pain. The bureaucrat turned behind him, wincing, and found himself staring at the grinning little girl who had been chasing after him all night, and the small entourage of puppets she currently had on her.

As she walked towards him, Johann screamed at her once more.

"What do you want from me!?"

"Are you stupid or something? I already told you. I just want to kill you."

"Why!?"

Evangeline laughed aloud at that for a good five seconds, before sneering, "What makes you think you're worth answering!?"

"L-Look! I'll... I'll give you anything you want! Please! Don't kill me!"

The vampire snapped her fingers, and Johann suddenly found himself suspended in the air by his wrists and ankles, with something that was cutting into his skin. She walked towards him, lightly, but her teeth still bared with that amused grin.

"You? Give me anything? What would I want with any of it? All the garbage you accumulated, like you, will perish, pointlessly and uselessly in my lifetime."

Eva continued forward, amidst the victim's struggles.

"So then, are you ready to be a popsicle?"

Johann gave off something a combination of a hysterical shriek and a "no!", and at that moment, Eva heard the cracking of the porcelain she used for her puppets.

Evangeline twisted around in surprise. One of her life-sized puppets, Ellen, drunkenly wavered a bit on its feet. Everything above its ball joint neck had been replaced with a white leather gloved fist, gripped around the fine china powder and black wig hair of what was Ellen's head.

"Ellen!" Eva choked, though more out of surprise than any long lasting affection for her handcrafted companion. Ellen collapsed to the ground, with the sounds of more breaking porcelain and the jangling of the steel weaponry that was hidden inside.

Eva could see the man behind the puppet, who owned the gripped fist. He was dressed in an immaculate white three-piece suit, perfectly unruffled and unwrinkled, and his dress shoes were also white. The only thing that varied in color were the few gold fastenings on his clothes and the blue necktie that ran down his chest. He had pale, unblemished skin, combed yellow blond hair, and ice blue eyes that seemed to look at nothing, but penetrated everything.

By all appearances, he was a flawless and perfect human being.

Just as perfectly human as Evangeline. That only meant one thing.

The vampire haughtily put her hand on her waist, cooing and tilting her head at the threat. The man dropped his hand, letting the ground dust fall to the floor next to him.

"So, what's this? Asgard's conjured lapdog? Homunculus? Golem? Demon? Ghost?"

"Justus Faustus. You are endangering my client." He spoke, voice emotionally detached but obviously concerned. The kind of voice that was vogue and attractive back in the days of nobles.

"Oh, is that how you justify yourself being a toy, these days?" Eva sneered.

Justus seemed unmoved, "I am simply what I am. As Mr. Asgard is my client, part of the contract stipulates mandatory he must survive the signed 23 years of my service to him."

Eva didn't really care for most of what he said. She shrugged and summarized.

"So you're not going to let me kill him?"

"No."

"I presume, forcibly, if you must."

"Are you going to attempt to kill me, too?"

Eva laughed loudly at that, before leering at him.

"Try and kill you? If you're going to be against me, you're already dead!"

Justus looked on, completely unconvinced, "I don't think it'll work. But if you maintain these open hostilities between either me or my clientèle, I will have to destroy you."

"What an arrogant shit. And you don't even have the nerve to tell me what you are." The vampire frowned, before shrugging.

She snapped her fingers, and something wrapped itself around Justus' bare neck from above. The larger man didn't even protest as he was hoisted violently into the air, followed by a violent and grossly large sound of dislocating bone.

Eva sighed, raising her hands nonchalantly, "Your security continues to be terrible, Asgard. All you're doing is making me want to kill you more."

Asgard, still hoisted up into the air by the same thing that broke Justus' neck, gulped, before grinning back, his confidence restored for some reason.

"T-That's too bad! Now that Justus is here, it's over!"

Eva frowned, before slowly turning around, snorting, "What, is he not dead or some-"

A white gloved hand slammed tight around her through, cutting off her voice and leaving her loudly gagging.

Justus towered over her, his head and ice blue gaze lolled to the side at a 90 degree angle.

"My body doesn't work exactly in the same way as a human's, vampire."

Eva, though voiceless, expressed as much general anger at the defiance through her twisted and darkened face. Another hand gesture by her sent more of something around the arm Justus was using to hold her. With several strong jerks, the man's arm twisted to and fro in several directions, sounding off more loud, disgusting snaps of "bone".

Justus held fast onto her arm, and perhaps even unnoticing of the fact his arm was mangled. He simply looked past Evangeline and up at the hoisted Asgard.

"I shall have you down shortly. I will also reimburse the floor of your office, soon."

"Wait, what do you mean-?"

Justus raised his knee, and slammed his heel down on the ground as hard as he could. At the point of contact, the carpet paneling and wood flooring shattered and split, spreading out until all the furniture on the ground, Justus, Eva, and her puppets all fell downstairs by means of the giant fissure that Justus kicked open.

Everything poured down into Asgard's large personal den, with Justus and Eva landing on their feet atop a redwood coffee table, while the various puppets limply fell on the floor or sofas ringing the two adversaries. The full moon shone through the windows weakly, and the lights from the floor above shone down, leaving everything in a strange contrast of natural cold and artificial warm lighting.

Growling, Eva leapt up and smashed her bare feet into Justus' chest, letting the vice fingers painfully slide off her neck. As they parted onto opposite sides of the table, the vampire rubbed the disappearing bruises around her neck spitefully, while Justus passively let the ruined appendages of his body snap back into place perfectly, his arm, and then his head jerking back upright.

Eva lashed out her hands, and visible ringing went through the air towards Justus. He responded by snapping out one hand, and pulling the fist away from his body. The ringing became several unceremonious snaps, and Justus held several, barely visible strands.

"The strings won't work anymore. I can see them."

"Hmph." Was all Eva responded with, crossing her arms, annoyed. She slammed her foot across the bottom edge of the coffee table as she could, then, sending the heavy oak flipping through the air towards Justus. With the same fist that had not even dropped the strings, Justus leaned forward and punched the flying table, exploding it in a single blow.

The moment the table came apart, Justus felt something slam into his guts, knocking even him over onto his back, before he found Evangeline sitting on him, grinning, and then his vision filling with as many of her fists as she could introduce in a minute.

Eva pounded away into Justus' face in a methodical left-right-left-right, while Justus lay there being shaked by the blows. Then her snow-white foe punched her in her own gut in retaliation, almost winding her, but enough for Justus grab her tiny body by both hands and hurl her off him.

As Eva landed on her feet, she found Justus about to throw all his strength into a single blow aimed at her head. She ran on pure instinct in this situation, knowing everything about herself and little about him, but she knew what always worked, for her and nobody else.

She balled up her own fist and gave her own punch with all her strength. Despite the disproportion of each opponent's arms, the small girl's arm just about managed to slide across Justus' and smash the fist into his fast about a whole second after Justus connected with Eva's own.

Both their head exploded into a spray of matter that was anything but red. For a moment, both bodies drunkenly stumbled for a lack of cerebrum, before falling backwards.

They caught themselves when their backs were an inch above the dusty floor.

Both bodies slowly raised themselves by their ankles, until there were upright, and acting perfectly normal without their heads. What was left of Evangeline folded her arms. Justus would have looked perfectly nonchalant, with his hands in his pockets.

Like a faucet, out of the collar of Eva's dress was a black void that continued to spew black, inky, bat winged shapes, that fluttered slightly, like it were alive.

White began to flow out of Justus' neck, like a combination of milk, ice, and porcelain, sliding up invisible walls that began to shape out an ear, flowing upward and then down to form a bit of the head, a closed eye that hung suspended in space...

"Well, that certainly settles it. You're not human. Or human made, and you'd make a poor demon, too..." Eva's voice haughtily echoed somewhere, while the stream of black bat like wisps began to thicken and take a roiling head sized shape, and red lights began to form where eyes and the mouth would be.

"What I am has no significance in this realm, except for the fact that Mr. Asgard's contract won't be void by some paltry attempt at immortality like you. His soul is my master's property, now." The half of Justus' jaw that had solidified moved, while the rest of his head continued to fill in.

The bats finally finished writhing, while natural colors returning, turning back to flesh. Eva tapped a finger along one chin, humming at the comment.

"Contractor... Justus Faustus..."

Her dull blue eyes widened, remembering now.

"Ah, yes, Faust! I recall now. How wonderful, so this is what a Contractor is. A piece of shit like Asgard is protected by a Shade born on earth, bastard child of an insane doctor who's so pathetic he had to turn to fucking a ghost, and an adulterous princess who betrays her country, at that. I suppose the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I wonder what your mummy will say, seeing you're just yet another slut for old men and women?"

Evangeline didn't get much of a rise out of Justus. His eyes in his reformed head tightened just the slightest, but it was a far cry from breaking down in anger.

"What happens to this supposedly desirable body matters little. It's just mud and ash, moving against similar matter in this world. All that matters are the souls. My clients are free to fritter away 23 years for frivolities, in exchange for the immortality that matters little to them. But not before then."

Eva yawned, pantomiming a talking head with her hand, "Blah, blah, blah. Talk is cheap."

"I recognize you too now, Puppet Master. Evangeline Mcdowell. 500 years of hypocrisy and misery in a body like that. The stories of you running pitifully for you life, scrabbling for what scraps of power you could sew together, acting like a monster so you can protect yourself from these pieces of mud-"

"Shut up. You're annoying." Evangeline growled, baring her fangs. Justus did.

"I'll admit that what I've been doing so far isn't going to work for you, but I'll just use all my powers to send you back to your master...!"

Black energy, like fire, burned off her black sun dress and body, while the puppets that had previously lay about her, limp, began to shake with life.

Justus' hands exited his pockets, and he challenged her forth, with a wave of his hand. "I've dealt with immortals like yourself successfully before. I deal with nothing but souls, and I can see your soul clearly, a corrupted child's core trying to wrap itself in darkness. A unique article like yours will be compensation enough for the trouble you've caused, when I present it to my master."

"I'll send you floating down the river Styx as an ice cube...! Ladies!"

The puppets shook free of their lethargy and immediately leaped with their strings to mass themselves between their mistress and her just as immortal enemy. Justus stared on at the brandished blades.

With a snap of her fingers, all the puppets rushed at Justus, running him through at several point with their weapons, and pushing him out the room with their combined weight.

All the while, Evangeline chanted.

"Lic Lac La Lac Lilac! Septendecim Spīritūs Glaciālēs Coeuntēs Inimīcum Concidant!"

Pieces of magic floated above Eva's head, looking something like a mixture of an isolated ball of blizzard and a half-existing piece of glacier. The puppets that had crushed Justus immediately impaled him again at various points, pulling his limbs away from his body and suspending him in the air.

"Sagitta Magica Seriēs Glaciālis!" Evangeline thus declared, pointing her finger at the target her puppets were holding up for her.

All 17 pieces of magic ice flew forward and slammed into Justus torso, sending him sliding off his skewers and down the hall. He righted himself in mid air and came down sliding across the carpeted floor. His out stretched arms and torso was frozen stiff by permafrost, and he look placidly on, while one of the life sized puppets closed in with a saber, aiming to cut Justus in two from head to toe.

Paying no heed, the Contractor simply pivoted as hard as he could from his waist, swinging one of his frozen arms, where it connected across the puppet's mouth, neck, and raised forearms, causing everything to shatter in a spray of smooth porcelain that was both puppet and Justus' arm. In moments, the puppet collapsed to the ground, while his armed regenerated. By then the remainder of the permafrost on his body began to dissipate, unable to support its magic presence any longer.

"You... Now you broke Marianne, too. Do you realize how much time it takes to make one of them? I'll just have to freeze you better this time..." Evangeline sighed, before the rest of the puppets began rushing down the hall.

Justus was already chanting his own retaliation, raising a finger, pointed at the crowd of puppets and their owner behind them, "Function: X = 12.092/Y = 0913.7/Z = 98881, Subtract superior invisible variables by 18, reverse denominations by the B-negatives-"

Evangeline couldn't help but over hear this gibberish.

_Numerology...? Those sound like rubbish equations that aren't even real. What is he planning-_

Something appeared in the space between Eva and the porcelain minions she had sent, and stabbed her right in the chest.

Eva nearly doubled over that the strange sensation of something cold and smooth penetrating her chest, sliding somewhere alongside her heart, without truly cutting anything. The vampire looked down and found a vaporous, skull like face grinning at her chest, while it's wore ancient plate armor, rotted and rusted, and continuing to dig its sword into her chest.

_A ghost? How is he able to command... Then again, he's not much different than them, is he? Why wouldn't they listen to something half dead like them... argh!_

Eva punched her hand through the undead soldier's skull, breaking it apart into disappearing mist. But the sensation of coldness in her chest persisted. The Vampire wasn't new to pain by any degree, but this feeling was entirely alien.

Her momentary lapse in control caused the puppets attacking Justus to suddenly stutter in movement, unsure of their mistress' desire. With that, the Contractor changed the pace of attack, from backing away to surging forward. A fist flying through a puppet's head, a spinning kick cutting another in two at the waist, an elbow shattering a chest into pieces.

The Queen of the Night was too late to even save her last ally, as she tried to pull a womanly blond doll back to her with a terse pull of her wrist. The puppet only made it a few feet back before Justus' feet landed atop her, shattering her body entirely to pieces and malfunctioning limbs. Justus balanced himself on the toes of his shoes, knees bent, while he stared at Eva, panting and clutching where the spectre had pierced her chest.

"What... what was that supposed to be!?" Eva snarled.

Justus raised his fingers, "A soul has 7 points by which connects it to its mortal coil. Memory, Regret, Sense, Consciousness, Necessity, Ambition, and Emotion. I have cut one of them. When enough are cut, I will take that soul of yours."

"Hah... you think a few spectres will be enough to take me out?" The vampire stood straight, flipping her hair, amused.

She kept it to herself her whole body was going numb. She couldn't even feel her hand going through her hair. Her senses...

"Function: absolute zero, mean equivalence to the fractional radicals. Reversed X is Six."

Thick blue mist appeared about Justus' feet, before six phantom warriors crawled out of the vapor, clattering in battered armor and bare bones, somewhat visible and somewhat not. All brandished swords and sabers of all kinds.

"All the immortals I've eliminated were too proud of their bodies and their time in this realm, till they don't even notice where the source of true immortality lies. Your magic and body won't protect your soul."

"Same goes for you... but enough talk, have at you! Lic Lac La Lac Lilac, Cantus: Nivis Cāsus!"

Justus raised his arm over his face to protect it from a sudden blizzard that began whipping through the corridor. Winds left Justus' blazer fluttering, and tore window blinds loose. Winds covered the walls in deep sleet and snow, and window panes and light fixtures rapidly converting wholly into ice and icicles.

Amidst this freezing, the Contractor ran head long into the wind, his phantoms staying close about him like an honor guard.

Evangeline swiped at the frozen corridor Justus was in. With the easy gesture, great sheaths of ice exploded from every flat surface, stabbing at the white-clad man. With a kind of awkward agility, as if he were unsure of the limits of his human-looking body, Justus swept about each pointed icicle lunging at him from the walls, floor, and ceiling, leaping, ducking, but always rushing forward. Many of the phantoms that were keeping up with him lacked the same kind of concern, and hence came to no surprise more than one simply ran head long into a spike of ice where Justus dodged, leaving them to explode back into mist, and return to where they came.

Evangeline smirked, even as Justus closed in, two ghosts still on his back. Another thick blade of ice stabbed upward in front of Justus, hoping to catch him under the chin and right up onward through to the top of his head. The Contractor leaned back, barely dodging, barely blinking, before swiveling around in a fierce roundhouse kick that broke the frozen pillar in two. His leg still raised somewhat, Justus reached back with one hand, rough grabbing one of his armed skeleton attendants by the neck. It may have tried to protest its treatment, but it had no throat.

Then, his foot slamming down, Justus hurled the ghost at the Vampire with all his strength.

Eva threw out her palm at the projectile, muttering.

"Cantus: Frīgerāns Exarmātiō!"

A gust of freezing wind slammed into the phantom, miraculously covering it in frost. Weighed down, the undead crashed into the ground, spilling apart into snow and smoke. In the next moment, Eva looked up, momentarily surprised before backing away as Justus fell from above, his downward fist going through the floor were Evangeline was, up to his elbow.

With Justus momentarily trapped, kneeling on the ground, trying to work his arm free, Eva launched forward. Snatching his face with her hand, Eva quickly hissed a spell.

"Sagitta Magica! Obscūrī!"

A burst of blackness hinted at itself in the tight space between the vampire's palm and the Contractor's face, before fully erupting in a point blank blast of amorphous darkness. The element, in spite of its ambiguity, still real enough for the blast erupting from Eva's hand to explode Justus' head. The trapped arm fully freed itself from the force of the blow, while Justus body jerked and began to fall back.

In the same instant, something flung itself out of the empty neck, and before Eva knew it, she was stabbed again in the chest.

The force of the blow tearing through her soul shocked her, and Eva gaped at the skeleton in her face before growling, grabbing it by the arm and shoulder, and throwing the armored undead into the ground with enough force to pulverize it into mist again.

"Coming out of your neck!? You're such a freak. You even use your own body without discretion..."

Justus was standing up from what may or may not have killed him, head reforming back into that unmoved gaze.

"Two of Seven."

Eva frowned deeply at the plain comment, before holding up her hand, fingers dancing with the reflected light of barely visible wires.

Justus tilted his head back, his blue eyes looking at her almost chidingly, "The wires will not work-"

He would have finished his proclamation, had his foot started dragging backwards away from under him, by the ankle. Off balance, the Contractor grunted, eyes widening with confusion as he fell, one hand slamming into the ground to keep his body upright with a bent knee.

Justus looked up, quickly muttering.

"Function, superlative value one, direct from cosign-"

Evangeline was already upon him, one of her bare knees smashing into his mouth with enough force to turn his lower face into shattered glass.

Evangeline's strategy was already changing as she watched Justus' head snap back.

_I can't let him hit me anymore with those spells. But his style is traditional, and his chants are longer...! I'll shut him up...  
_  
Part of the increased violence was for her injured pride from being hurt. But the other was a deep seated fear she never realized could have hit her, while the numb cold in her body began to deepen and spread.  
_  
_Justus was already jumping away with his free leg, getting enough slack on his trapped ankle to kick it free with a loud snap of the broken line. All the while, his mouth reformed.

"Direct from cosign, repeat numerator if between-"

Eva's hand clamped over the mouth, this time, while Eva snapped the fingers of her other. Wires flew between her hand on Justus' mouth and violently pierced through several points of his face under his nose. Eva pushed him away with enough force to send him tumbling down the hall. As he stood back up she sneered at her handiwork, at the wires that had sewn the Contractor's mouth shut brutally.

"Annoying talkative types should just stick to whining like little dogs...!" She called hopping away a few steps backwards. Justus seemed to give a fain sign of displeasure from his eyes.

Then surged forward with speeding blur. Eva only had enough time to jump slightly back before a fist suddenly pulverized the hallway floor she was standing one, rupturing it, the walls, and everything around her. The whole section of the building looked like it was about to collapse.

The vampire struggled to try and keep her bare feet solidly placed on the slab of floor around her that was beginning to tilt and fall out of the manor. Windows shattered, and chunks of walls fell apart, lighting falling out of the walls and ceiling. In that moment, Justus, still shut up, delivered a kick to the Eva's side. The petite vampire brought her arms up to defend against the blow, and it ended up sending her through the collapsing brick work and out into the air outside of Asgard's manor, above his front garden and driveway.

Rather than falling like a stone, Eva yelped for a few seconds, before her wild pitching was righted, and she brought herself into an unassisted float, glaring at the collapsing floor of the wing of the house.

_No point being nice, Eva...!_

"Lic Lac La Lac Lilac! Veniant Spīritūs Glaciālēs! Extentantur Āerī! Tundram et Glaciem, Locī Noctis Albae! Crystallizātiō Tellustris!"

As soon as the words left the Vampire's mouth, the entire side of the building was consumed by thick blue ice, pouring through any available opening, and freezing the broken hallway inside out.

"Ensis Exsequēns!"

Eva's hand glowed with a bright gold power, and she swiped the empowered limb across the air in front of her frozen target. The hallway exploded in a series of concussive blasts, throwing brittle rubble and shards of ice into the sky, while the hovering vampire admired her work carefully.

As expected, Justus burst from the aftermath of the attack, hurling himself straight towards Eva, various shrapnel pieces of ice stabbed into his body to no effect, while his mouth continued to remain shut.

Eva simply countered the blitzkrieg charge with a simple, "Sagitta Magica."

Blasts of roiling darkness flew from her airborne body at Justus. What she hadn't counted on, to her shock, was a suddenly surprisingly agility from the Contractor who tanked through everything before.

The magic arrows began to miss, Justus ducking under one, sidling away from another, while twisting his body around and around in various angles to miss each shot. In moments he was practically atop the vampire, forcing her to back away with an annoyed hiss.

Because he had catapulted himself towards her, not flown, Justus began to fall, right as he was reaching her, and she was retreating. But it still useful for him in the fact that he had grabbed her by the ankle. Eva could not even protest, as she found herself being twirled and thrown downwards into the wide and enclosed driveway of the exorbitantly glamorized mansion, cratering her into a deep, self made pot hole her size.

Eva groaned slightly at the impact, before rolling away as a white shoe slammed where she was just a second ago. Twirling back onto her feet, Eva dodged again, as Justus began to lay into her with his free limbs, since his spells were out of the question at the moment. The vampire made an mistake of blocking a telegraphed punch with her forearms, when the punch slid away from her, making way for a sharp shard of ice embedded in arm to slice a deep gash along both of her arms, eliciting a yelp of pain from her.

Justus' leg rose, swinging towards her neck, making Eva bring her arms up again to block the attack mid swing. It stopped inches from her neck, but it didn't matter. Another frozen piece impaled in his leg crossed the distance already, stabbing into her neck, normally leaving a normal human to quickly bleed to death from a missing artery, but for Eva, she simply gagged at the highly painful but completely nonlethal attack, while black mist sprayed from the injury. She backed away, clutching her neck while it regenerated, but Justus was already lunging at her again, the same detached look on his face.

_Ah, damn. I should really try to learn something about martial arts some time,_ was all Eva could really think to herself, disdainfully.

His other hand had a large tip of ice impaling it right through. It was with this make shift weapon that Justus slammed, palm down onto the top of Eva's head as hard as possible with a sickeningly muffled crunch. Eva jerked for a second, eyes rolling upward into the back of her head as she died. Justus grabbed the end of the ice on the other side of his hand and jerked hard, breaking the ice off in her head, while pulling the remainder of the sharp ice off.

As Eva fell onto her back, Justus quickly used the frozen edge in his grip to stab himself between the lips, crudely slicing the strings apart that sewn his mouth shut. In seconds, he threw away his makeshift tool to pry the loose strings from his mouth, also throwing those away. The holes all over his mouth quickly sealed up into perfection. Concentrating, the pieces of ice on his body also pushed out and fell onto the ground around him, revealing perfect flesh and only torn fabric of his presumably expensive suit.

Evangeline too, quickly was recovering, the gashes disappearing, and the ice trapped in her skull falling away, as blackened mist poured out, and then disappeared, revealing refreshed hair and skin.

Eva's eyes rolled back into consciousness, and she snarled. Throwing herself back onto her feet, she stared down Justus, who was also in perfect health.

They stood there for a second. Then the rapid talking began.

"Lic Lac La Lac Lilac-!"

"Repeat numerator if between 17 and 8.97-"

"-Cantus: Malleus Aquilōnis!"

"-Subset is heavy division."

The distance between the two standing was taken up by a rusted, undead warrior, larger than anything before, hefting a large battle axe that it prepared to swing down on Eva.

It didn't very far, as Eva was already swinging herself, a large hammer of her own conjured from water following her motion and crushing the phantom back into mist.

The water of the conjured hammer splashed across the ground soaking everything for several feet, including the legs of Eva and Justus.

Eva grinned, and even without a verbal command, the water at her feet began to rapidly freeze its way towards Justus. The Contractor stepped back for a moment, but only to rear his leg and slide it into the pavement, breaking the entire ground into little sodden chunks that flew at Eva. Eva could hardly see as bits of black asphalt peppered the front of her body, and was thus left off guard when a roundhouse kick went into her head and snapped her neck.

It was already healed back to normal when she was done twirling through the air towards the Manor garage, and slamming into the brick wall next to it, pulverizing several layers of it. Pulling herself free, she glared at Justus, who slowly walked up the drive way towards her.

Looking around for a few seconds, she found next to her, a very expensive looking black Humvee, that had been parked outside. With a little grin, she grabbed the front fender of the heavy vehicle, and with little effort, swung round as hard as she could, releasing her grip at Justus.

Even for the Contractor, he was very taken aback, and unsure what to do with what he was presented with. Thus he did nothing and let a several ton vehicle fall from the sky and crush him.

Eva did not finish though, as she continued chanting and rushing toward the fallen machine.

"Dios Tukos!"

This time, it was an axe constructed of lightning that she hurled down on the Humvee and Justus underneath. Even as the metal hull was smashed further down, electricity jolted every square inch of the crumpled machine, giving the result Eva wanted, who watched it explode violently.

"...Subset is wide median multiplication."

The vampire had no time to react, as a portion of the broken vehicle in front of her parted to give way to a large ghostly lance that plunged deep into her chest. A very decisive hit, Eva doubled over and gagged. Swatting at the lance, it broke into mist, while she backed away, clutching the supernatural wound in her chest.

All the while Justus burst from the flames, covered slightly with phantoms that clung to their summoner mindlessly, shielding him from the fire, though his suit was still singed, and his blackened flesh was regaining its typical pale shade.

"It's not quite time for my suit to be replaced, you see, nosferatu." Justus mentioned off hand to the vampire, not caring if she listened or not.

Eva was clutching her head with one hand, wincing and feeling nauseous, "This... what's happening... this can't be... I am... Evangeline..."

Justus observed her reactions, "I must have hit a connection related to mental attributes. Perhaps Memory or Emotion..."

"You bastard... piece of shit... you and your ghosts... nngh..."

There was a small a part of her that was fearing she was trapped in a losing battle, against a being that might even be more powerful than her. But she refused to believe it. She was 500 years of survival, undying, forever, solely on her own power. There was nothing she could do.

But at this moment, the odds were beginning to stack against her. Every hit against him she made, it seemed he needed only a few to rattle her deeply in ways she didn't even realize were possible.

_That such dangerous techniques exist... but I haven't lost yet...!_

Eva leapt up and away, higher and higher till she stood on the edge of the roof, and disappeared out of sight.

Justus stared for a second, before looking at the covering of ghosts he had on him. He had forgotten they were on him.

"Re-designate values. Establish the generous outliers if they are 3.9201, 15.81, and 9.12."

-

-

-

Evangeline panted heavily, kneeling. Cold sweat glistened on her body, and she hated it. It was such a human thing to do, to weaken, to be flimsy after a few hits. It was just so human.

"Agh! I can beat him...! I won't... I am... the greatest immortal vampire...!" She swore to herself, while she shakily got to her legs. She couldn't believe it. Justus had said people had 7 links, and here she was, with only three pierced. It wasn't even more than half, but here she was, acting so pitifully...!

There was a rasping groan she picked up.

Dumping those previous thoughts, Eva jerked her head towards where the sound came from. Along the opposite edge of the tiled roof, undead phantoms climbed on, trying to reach for her, sabers and other swords clenched between their teeth as they clawed onto the tiles.

Twisting around, Eva found ghosts climb on all around, creating a perimeter, trying to hem her onto the roof.

"You think you can intimidate me like this, Justus!? I'm not that weak!" Eva spat. Had she been just a little more angry, she would have not noticed the slightly trembling of the tiles beneath her feet. As it were, she looked down in shock and jumped away just in time to avoid Justus slamming out from below. Justus barely noted her escape before he muttered.

"Execute operation."

From where he was, waist deep and still in the roof, several sword swinging phantoms flew past him, out of the hole he had made, flying up into the air at her.

Eva narrowly leaned back to dodge one slice, kicked away another ghost, and shot down the remaining with more magic arrows of ice and darkness that erupted from her palm, arcing about and swinging back into each ghost that came at her from Justus' chant. With the lull following the exhaustion of Justus' attack, the vampire turned around with a cry and dive bombed the Contractor, pulverizing a section of roofing and turning it into a plume of dust and flying tiles scattering everywhere. The ghosts surrounding the perimeter of the roof looking on dumbly.

Justus jumped backwards out of the smoke, Eva chasing after him angrily. A slash of her clawed fingers made her way across Justus' face, lacerating it and spilling the strange liquid ice and white he bleed. His mouth damaged again, Eva had the time snarled a spell that pulled a glowing Sword of Conviction from her hand, which she swung to and fro, while Justus backed away from each swing, the wounds on his face healing.

_Get his mouth... get his mouth...! I will win!_

Justus had no time to speak anyways, with the wrathful vampire on his tail. Ducking under a horizontal swing, Justus surged forward, and planted a punch into Eva's stomach, knocking her off her feet and doubling her completely over and under the hand that made its way into her gut. Following through the motions of his blow, Justus flung her off his fist, leaving her to roll across the surface of the roof. Justus quickly reached an open palm towards one of the ghosts that guarded his makeshift arena. Instantly the dead soldier was drawn into his hand, which he used to grab it by the spinal neck. Throwing his arm back, Justus swung back forward and pitched the ghost with all his strength at the Eva.

As she just rolled around, she was caught off guard at the ghost and his sword that he planted into her stomach.

Eva gagged as she felt something spectral snip something unseen and important in her. With this, Eva yelled in rage, punching the ghost in the face and out of physical existence.

"JUSTUS! I won't lose to you!" She screamed, livid with rage, denying the fear with all her might.

"Four of Seven. It can't be long now-"

"You! You! I'm going to kill you! I'm the Queen of the Night! I refuse to be put down like this! I'm immortal!" Eva raged, getting to her feet, a hand clutching her stomach, even if there was no visible would to cover.

Justus' ice blue eyes kept trained on her, unblinking, "You are just another creature trying to survive long past its due. Like every other immortal I've eliminated. Your soul is mine."

**"LIC LAC LA LAC LILAC!"**

Justus just watched.

**"ĒPŌIDĒ: PASAIS ZŌAIS TON ISON THANATON, HOS ATARAXIA! KOSMIKĒ KATASTROPHĒ!"**

The temperature began to drop rapidly, air whipping around the two, flapping at Evangeline's dress and Justus weathered blazer and suit. Before anyone could even realize what had happened, save Eva, the entire half of the other wing of the Asgard's manor, in front of Eva, simply froze over. Every square inch did not simply become covered in ice. It became ice. Even several square meters of air above the roof, and all around Justus, up to just above his head, solidified into a coldness that could only be measured with science.

The entire structure was now at Absolute Zero. Justus himself, within the ice, simply stared, as if unrealizing he had been trapped even at the molecular level in a freeze.

Eva panted, and watched as little cracks begin to build in the ice, across the half of the manor wing, and all around the frozen Justus. Eventually, the whole place simply collapsed into a mass of ice and snow, unable to even support its own atoms, Justus disappearing within.

And Eva laughed, trickles of sweat running down her face, as she looked at the mess that broke off at the remaining edge of the roof right in front of her feet.

"How about that, Contractor!? You arrogant trash! You thought you could just stand up to anything I threw! Just because I have a few weak points, and because you can regenerate, doesn't mean anything at all, in the end! Heh! And now I know about this "soul" business-"

A ghost's rapier stabbed out the front of her chest.

Evangeline stared at the blade erupting out from her, in complete disbelief. Looking behind her to confirm, she did indeed see a ghost click its teeth, lost in its own world as it was used as a puppet to strike her. She gave a hysterical laugh.

"T-That's impossible... your... commander is... dead... you can't... be... used..."

The ghost didn't respond to her. Instead it pulled its blade out of her, and Eva gasped hoarsely, before dropping onto her face atop the roof.

And she could not move. Her eyes widened slightly as she coughed.

"My... body..."

She barely felt could feel the tiles and her long gold hair beneath her face at all. It was like all she had was her consciousness and her sight, her sideways view of the full moon in the blue sky.

A pair of white shoes that stepped into view. She choked, trying to find something to say.

"But...?"

She could hear his voice.

"I kept a fact in reserve. I am generally immune to the cold. Even the cold from magic. Most of my bureaucratic functions are at Acheron Dam, after all, where all the dead are flooded through. I assure you, that river holds temperatures indescribable, even beyond a this realms "Absolute Zero". As for your condition, enough of your links to your soul has been severed to lose your contact to your body. You're only clinging to this world now. I must commend you for being able to fight till five of seven were cut. Most lack the fortitude to make it that far."

The white shoes walked around, out of view, while she heard him behind him. She struggled with all her will to even turn her head, but she was paralyzed completely.

She felt the back of her dress be torn open, exposing her skin.

"G... Get... away... pervert..."

"You still think I am interested in some flesh? Hm. Your soul is very commendable, of course, given your fight. I will be performing the soul extraction, now."

"N-No... Stop..."

Eva eyes bulged with shock, and her breath hitched as she felt his hand somehow plunge through her back into her body. She felt him grab something inside. Something immaterial, but she suddenly realized its sheer importance.

He began to pull.

"Stop...! Stop! You... can't...! I... don't...!"

His hand was out of her body, still gripped around something. He continued to pull, as if trying to snap the annoying plastic tags on some piece of furniture or clothing.

Eva was genuinely terrified now. It hit her. Her soul was leaving. It was going somewhere she didn't know. She didn't know if she'd be conscious during then. She didn't know what it'd be like. She knew it would be terrible.

It was the act of dying.

She didn't want to go.

"Stop! Stop! STOP! Somebody... Somebo..." Eva hoarsely pleaded. She could feel something trickle from her eyes, but she wasn't sure what it was. She was too afraid to think.

_Somebody... Somebody... help... me..._

"Cantus: Undēducentī Spīritūs Lūcis Coeuntēs Inimīcum Sagittent!"

The grip disappeared. Eva gasped as the thing sank back into her chest. She could hear the rumble, and then the sound of hundreds of magic arrows slamming around her. Most likely Justus dodging them, or simply absorbing them as he could.

"Hekatontakis Kai Kiliakis Astrapsato! KILIPL ASTRAPE!"

And a sound of loud thunder.

"Urgh...!?"

The sound of Justus actually making a groan of effort, maybe even pain. Eva could only hope, in a muddled part of her brain, exhausted as she was.

Another pair of feet slammed down beside her, with a loud, male voice.

"Hey! You, you just back off! What kinda era is this! So we're letting jerks like you man handle poor girls!?"

"...I know you. You are that Hero. Even the demons are aware of you."

"Then you know how badass I am, then! So you better back away before I kick your ass, you... ghost!"

"Are you aware of the context of which this battle took place? This is a matter purely between us. She is the aggressor, and she is also the defeated."

"Hey, I just watched this fight taken outside and all I know is that you're the one who handed her her little ass. Like I said before, if you were even a decent guy, you wouldn't lay a hand on her! I'm not going to let you kill her!"

"I see. But if you watched the fight, then you know what I am capable of. I can simply endure you. My condition is still adequate to fight you. You would not last as long as her, either, even Hero as you are. Are you going to really fight me?"

"Well, I would have, but I learned to be a bit smarter. If I can't beat you, I'll just have to get by with being sneaky. You have some old guy you're protecting, right?"

"You did something with him. Where is he?"

"Oh! I think I saw insecurity in those glass eyes of yours! He's hanging off some edge of the building here, I dunno what it's called. Maybe you should save him."

"...Very well, you have read me. You probably know what I would say next, then. So make sure I never find her again, because a soul like hers I will not give up, and I have plenty of time."

"Big words! Why don't you get your fabulous ass going, then!"

Eva was dumbfounded at the sound of Justus running off. Whoever this person was... he just... talked him away...

Granted, he did have good leverage, but still.

Arms gathered around, hoisting her into a seated position, while she remained limp. A cloak fell around her shoulders, covering her torn clothing, while large arms picked up her, lifting her by her back and the back of her knees.

Evangeline saw her rescuer. A man who was physically older and larger than her, maybe middle aged. His head was a flock of wild red hair that was barely contained in a sort of ponytail. On his back was a staff that curved back and forth, wrapped in bandaging. He took one look at her and winced, understandingly.

"That jerk sure did a number on you... I'm not Eishun, but I know spiritual damage when I see it. That guy must be hardcore with that stuff. Gonna have to find some place to let you rest and see if your soul just... reconnects, or something..."

"Who...?"

"Look, I think we better get going before His Fabulousness returns. So just chill for now. Maybe sleep? Then again, the way you are... eh, whatever! I'm getting you outta here. Name's Nagi."

"Eva..."

"Heh, not bad. Well, here we go!"

And he jumped high into the air, staff coming under him, flying him and the bundle of girl in his arms away from the manor, into the night sky.

Eva... wasn't sure what to think as she felt sleepier each second, drained. She faintly recalled she might have been nobility once, and that at least justified her being a princess, and he fitted being a knight, even if he was a bit unkempt and lacking the shining armor, and she was a vampire, and quite a bit short of virtue.

But for all the ice that night, Eva's heart might have felt a little warmer for the first time in 500 years.

-

-

-

**Name:** Justus Faustus

**Weapon of Choice:** Necromancy, Numerology

**Nemesis: **Yasha Yaruna, Evangeline A.K. Mcdowell

**Points of Interest: **Half Human-Half Shade, Villain

**Profession:** Contractor under Demon God Mephistopheles


	5. Kouki Tatsumiya

**Tatsumiya Kouki**

**

* * *

**

_When she was very young, she did not know very much of magic. But she knew she did not like it._

_Where she used to live was a little village somewhere in South America, she did not know where, she did not think of maps when she was five._

_There was a village near to hers. There was a Witch Doctor in that place, of which the things he said she did not like._

_Born from a foreigner, an evil race of men who lived far in the east, who spent their lives exaggeratedly worshiping wrong gods, you are a filthy child, and your parents are filthy people._

_The village she lived in was poor because the gods and fate did not like it. It deserved to be destroyed. The UN and America have no say in this. They are foreign men. They do not know better. They should not help you. You should be destroyed._

_He said a lot of things. And because he was a magician, lots of people believed. Perhaps because they were spiritualists. Or maybe because it was a mask for other motives._

_She did not like magic very much. She didn't like the war it started either._

_Other villages threatening to swallow her home whole. Hers fiercely fighting back. It took her neighbors, and her friends, and eventually, her parents._

_It was after she stopped crying she gained a unique clarity. It was a sort of clearness where your head was empty of all thoughts, and all that remained was a certainty. Like the end of a headache, or when you go to your roof and see the sun rise before the world wakes up._

_She walked to her older men and said very plainly, "I want to fight"._

_Her first gun was the Beretta 92. Her first battle was a disaster._

_Because of the Witch Doctor. He really wanted her dead, didn't he? Magic really was annoying._

_Of course, she hadn't really thought of magic in very concrete terms. It used to be just little trinkets that said they would charm or curse you, ravings that might be prophecy, bits of surviving sage advice, and a very angry Witch Doctor._

_But then came the summoned demons. Came in, with teeth and claws and wings._

_She should have died. Her village should have been destroyed. But it wasn't._

_When she was older, she would realize that relief groups, UN or no, were not entirely helpless, especially when presented with supernatural resistance. There was a small group, one that was little heard of, but those who knew things, always knew them. They were sheathed claws that scratched back for people who crossed the line in their violence._

_  
But she was five. She didn't know these things. She only knew who, or what, saved her life at the very instant they first met._

_She was sitting on the dirt path, shocked. The Beretta was still in her hand, but it was pressed into the ground, supporting her. Around her were broken buildings, and the dissipating sound of gunfire and battle, as the tides had turned in their favor by a landslide._

_In front of her was a ten foot tall demon. It was made of black flesh and immense muscles that bulked out an athletic frame, made for killing people with its long arms that ended in claws, and the large horns on its head._

_It was also dead. It was lying on its front, its head lolled to the side, tongue hanging out limp. Its black body was peppered with holes._

_Standing on its back was a man. His head was covered by a large shawl, which tailed down his back, covering his face. In his arms was a wood bodied rifle. It was older than even her own gun, but it was him who knocked the creature down and gunned it before it could fight back. He had a hand to the side of his head._

_"King, this is Spade-3, finished my sweep. The village seems secure over here. Took down another special tango..."_

_The hooded face turned to her. She gasped and jumped to her feet._

_"Also have visual of a Joker, over."_

_"...roger... hostile...?"_

_"Hm? Naw, don't think so. Looks like she's either militia or got caught up in the fighting and somehow got a gun. But she's five, anyways. Gonna talk to her, over."_

_"...caution as always, Spade-3..."_

_"Got it, over."_

_He jumped off the corpse, which began to fade away. She gasped, and trained her weapon on him. It. Whatever he was. People don't just kick giant monsters down and kill them with the guns that worked when others didn't... he was..._

_Not normal. Like the Witch Doctor she didn't like._

_She wasn't afraid though. She had a stable grip, and did not shake or hesitate._

_"Woah, woah! Don't fire! I'm a friendly! Friendly!"_

_"Drop your gun!"_

_"Alright. I'm doing it. Don't fire. I'm just want to talk."_

_He slowly drew the rifle, on a strap, over his head and slowly leaned it, barrel away, from her, before letting it clatter to the ground. He also dropped a side arm._

_There was something refreshing about how he talked to her like an adult. That he feared and respected her as a soldier aiming a gun at him. A part of her had been afraid that, like many other adults in her life, she'd just be underestimated because of her age, and the adult's pride would start trouble._

_But he listened._

_"Alright, that's both my guns. Don't worry, I'm not here to fight you. I was sent to fight those demons back there, see?" He nudged his head behind him to the where the demon was, while his hands were raised._

_"Who are you? What are you?" She hissed._

_"Hey, chill. I'm human, like you, see?"_

_He pulled down the shawl over his head, underneath was a head of a young man. His hair was an unkempt array of white locks, which was strange for her. On his head, over his right eyebrow, was a long gash that was headed towards the center of his head, which was still bleeding freely._

_"See? My name's Kouki. What's yours, kid?"_

_She narrowed her eyes at the question, still distrusting. She remembered one of the little tricks about Witches was not to tell them your name. If they had even the smallest thing to hold onto you, they could control you._

_She didn't like magic._

_"It's... It's a secret!" She stubbornly responded._

_-_

_-_

_-_

Kouki stabbed the pole into the hard sandy ground, and stepped back to scrutinize the steel, circular target, checking whether it was steady and level. After a few once overs by eye, he was satisfied enough, nodded, and turned back to the ten year old girl a few yards behind him. Her hair was getting longer and had been tied back into a pony tail, at the moment. Finding clothes her size that could survive the environments she went through were essentially next to impossible, and she had lived off hand me down combat fatigues from adults. Not that she minded. She pushed back the huge, desert camo sleeves that threatened to swallow her arms, again, and continued diligently loading cartridges into the magazines sitting on flattish stone she was squatting in front of.

The sky was muddy and overcast, today, which was agreeable weather, given they were in the rocky Afghan desert. A day of coolness would benefit everyone.

"By the way, Mana..." He said, walking up to her. She looked up.

"...I never got your real name."

Mana shrugged, "It's a secret."

Kouki gave a chuckle, "Right, right."

Somehow, the question and answer had become an ongoing daily ritual that the two of them found a comfort of predictability in. Kouki would ask, and Mana's name would remain a secret to him. This, hopefully, would never change, no matter the number of battlefields and conflicts see after five years.

Five whole years. For Mana, sometimes, it felt like South America had only been yesterday. Leaving behind a village she no longer had any ties to, she turned from a civilian refugee to a stowaway that chased after Kouki and his unit till they got used to it. They were never quite a normal military outfit to begin with, a nameless orphan would seem practically boring amongst them.

Kouki's place-holder of a name became more permanent over the years. By now, Mana preferred being called such. It was something given to her by Kouki, and it was the her of now she wanted him to know her by.

"So, ready to practice the new gun, Mana?"

"Hm... Kouki-sensei..."

"Yeah?"

"Why do I have to practice with... this? It's not a good gun."

Mana had been loading magazines for the empty Desert Eagle. Being in a military styled, but magic using combat unit, the line between reality and fiction could be easily blurred. This lead to much reiteration of what and what not was actually possible in action movies, video games, novels, and so forth.

As for the Desert Eagle, Mana quickly caught on that it was an overly heavy, high maintenance experiment, whose capabilities had been gloried in action movies, video games, novels, and so forth. In short, it was a weapon to be avoided.

"Let me guess. Thinking about the problems of the Eagle, right?" Kouki smiled slightly. Mana nodded.

"Well, it's good to know you're paying attention to some things I say-"

"That's not true! I listen to everything you say! It's important! You're my... teacher..." Mana objected, blushing slightly.

"Really? I think sometimes my mouth runs away from my brain, and I say a lotta stupid things. At least, that's what Mika always tells me." Kouki chuckled.

Mana shook her small head, ponytail waving, also somewhat annoyed Kouki was referring that girl's opinion rather than hers.

"I learn a lot of important things from you..." Mana said. Kouki smiled and patted her head.

"Good to know that I'm at least doing this teaching business right. We got off track, though... Desert Eagle, right?"

"Yes."

"Right. A Desert Eagle should not be used, if used by an ordinary person, and as an ordinary gun. But, Mana, you see, since I specialize in hunting Demons and the like, and I guess I'm teaching you the same, Desert Eagles are actually very good weapons in this case."

"Really?"

"Yep. Large cartridges makes it easier for us to modify them to hold special propellants and powders and the like. It has a large shape, so we can easily engrave it with spells. And of course, it has its mechanical problems, but if one goes out of its way to enhance the gun, it's actually one of the less important problems. So, against Demons and Ghosts and such, Desert Eagles can be made to work like the ones in movies."

Kouki saying all of that made him sound really smart, and Mana was in awe.

"That's why it's important you get accustomed to firing such a weapon, early on. You might be using it a lot in the future."

"Alright... I'll try, then."

"Great! Alright, muffs, goggles..."

Mana, wearing protective ear and eye wear, soon had a Desert Eagle loaded with a magazine, slide pulled back to let one of the .50 Caliber shells into the chamber. Her child hands wrapped around massive gun as best she could, struggling with the weight. She sighted the target in the distance.

"Don't worry about being accurate, Mana. I just want you to get used to the feel of the gun. It has a kick, of course. Get used to the kick." Kouki said, beside her.

Mana didn't really believe in not worrying about hitting, though. It was generally hard not to, when your teacher was watching you. More than anything, she wanted to make sure she did it right in front of Kouki. She couldn't make herself look bad.

So she sighted and squeezed the trigger.

The dulled sound of an explosion rang out, while Mana yelped and found her world twirling backward.

-

-

-

"That wasn't funny." She pouted, rubbing the back of her head.

"I'm not laughing, Mana! Really! I should have given it some more thought... .50 Caliber recoil on a ten year old girl..."

"You probably think it's funny, watching me fly back like that..."

"I'm telling you, Mana! It was an accident! I'm really sorry!"

Mana just sniffed, annoyed, as the two of them returned to base camp. Their unit's location in Afghanistan was somewhere obscure, but then again, it seems they mitigated any problem with magic. Supply lines were easily settled by teleportation magics. Their living spaces, on the outside, looked little more than dirt stained tents, but were enchanted so the inside was disproportionately lavish.

The continued their way down the shallow valley, their temporary village in sight at the bottom. Kouki started up again.

"Say, Mana...?"

"Yes, Kouki-Sensei?" Mana said, after sighing.

Kouki wondered why was it sometimes Mana was so good at making herself sound like she had the maturity and insight of a saint, whilst making him come off as a teenaged fratboy.

"...Have you thought about my offer? You know...? It's been five years since we got to know each other, and I'm pretty taking care of you..." Kouki asked, before petering off with a mumble, nervously thumbing the scar over his right eyebrow.

Mana knew the offer he was talking about. He talked about it more than once, though of course, it wasn't exactly like a ritual like the Question-Answer sessions about her name. She did think about it a lot, but every time, it always worried her.

"...I mean, I've probably said this a billion times. I know you like doing what you do, but I don't want you to spend your whole life on a battlefield. Even my tour of duty's gonna run out one day. So you know... don't you want to be adopted by me? "Tatsumiya Mana"! Or whatever your real first name is. You never told me what it was."

"It's a secret."

"Heh, heh, well, I suppose... but you never give me an answer, Mana. Don't you want to come back to Japan with me?"

"It's not that..." Mana muttered, face heating up again. It was not that at all, but Kouki could never see it.

"Then what? I mean, what's the problem? You'd love Japan..."

"I know."

"And I'm sure my folks would love you-"

"They seem like nice people."

"Plus the Shrine's in the middle of this huge... school city... place. You can go to school and... you know, be a normal girl. Not that you now is a problem, or anything!"

"I wouldn't mind..."

Every response seemed dismissive. Kouki rubbed his chin, figuring what would make adoption sound really good to Mana.

"Plus, you know, all the secrets to Tatsumiya-style Exorcism are stored up at my place. So you see, I haven't been teaching you everything properly..."

"You're still teaching me very well, Kouki-sensei. I'm sure I could go to Japan with you and keep learning from you and go to school... but do I really have to be...?"

Mana looked away, discomforted by the idea of adoption, still. Kouki just had no idea.

"Come on, Mana! Give me a clue here... why're you so against the idea? I mean, I care about you a lot. You're like my sister!"

Mana clenched her teeth. Kouki just had no idea how much she looked up to her teacher. How much she admired him for everything she did for him. She liked him. But in the end, he didn't like her back enough.

Being Tatsumiya Mana... the adopted sister to Tatsumiya Kouki... only a sister...

Kouki didn't get a chance to respond, as Mana stalked on ahead, down the hill towards. He scratched his head.

"Damn, what was that about? Girls never make much sense..."

-

-

-

The rest of the day, Mana seemed to avoid him. Kouki sighed to himself about the development, but left it alone. Not like he could keep imposing if she wanted to do her own thing. He just hoped this whatever problem would work itself out by the end of the day.

Kouki was in the tent that was actually a fully functioning cafeteria inside, a slightly eerie combination what what you imagine to be in a high school, a military base, and maybe that scene from _Watchmen. _So there was a lot of florescent light, white, and stainless steel involved, broken up by brown table trays and the colors of food that, thankfully, came from a chef that cared enough to at least make it taste good.

Kouki stabbed the watermelon slices in the little side fruit tray, "What is going through her head...?"

The gunman had been pondering the issue again, as he usually did whenever he revitalized the offer, and Mana continued skirting it. He had been going at it all through the meal, and would have continued, had he not noticed someone slide into the bench on the other side of the table, carrying her own tray of food.

Kouki looked up, somewhat surprised, "...Mika? When did you come back?"

She wordlessly gave a genuine, but still vacant smile, while she looked back at Kouki with glassy and unfocused green eyes, that were somehow both blind and seeing at the same time.

Harami Mika was a girl about the same age as Kouki. Under a black knit cap, fringes and bangs of dark auburn hair stuck out. She, too was wearing fatigues, like everyone else, but her jacket was open, revealing a black tank top clinging to her thin frame, and exposing her neck, that was highly distinguished by a wide scar wound that circled around completely.

Most everyone in the unit had powers due to some reason or another. Kouki was a pretty standard mage gunner. Mika, on the other hand, was one of the more unusual stories, as well as highly extreme. Somewhere in her past, she had willingly volunteered to partake of a ritual to bind a particular kind of fairy from Ireland and gain its powers.

It involved being surgically decapitated at the climax of the ritual.

When Kouki heard the story, he was particularly unnerved by it. A doctor who could remove a person's head and then reattach it in a matter of seconds sounded like a genius, but also a real nutjob for being involved. In fact, everyone involved sounded a bit insane.

Mika herself gave up much to get something in return. But aside from a newfound fondness for the color black, it seemed she was pretty adjusted to the whole deal. Kouki figured what with the powers, black, disabilities, traumatic experience, and what not, in comic books, Mika would have found herself being a super villainess. But as seen, she was rather here, in this unit.

Mika reached into the pocket of her heavy jacket and pulled out a pen and paper, scribbling, before showing it to Kouki.

**  
last night. was sleeping most of time. tough mission. suppose might have died.**

"...What!?"

She shrugged and continued writing.

**united states invaded azadistan for al-asad while we were inspecting. al-asad had nuke. would have set off.**

"A nuke!? You...! You... you're not irradiated or something, are you?"

Mika shook her head.

**helped teleport. nuke not here. somewhere else far far away.**

Kouki sighed in relief, "Wow, that sounded close. You coulda been blown up. You're really calm about this, you know?"

Mika shrugged again.

"Man, imagine if that nuke had gone off. Lotta people would be gone in a blink of an eye."

**the world would just watch.**

"Well, yeah. The world's too big. It's why we do what we do and do the right thing, yeah?"

**hero man.**

"What, you don't believe in justice?"

**not as much as you.**

"Well... Hm." Kouki wasn't quite sure what to say. It's not like her opinion detracted from her duties any less. Considering she just helped a nuke from exploding anywhere near people.

**by the way where is your student mana?**

Kouki looked at the written question, before deflating a little, "She's... sulking somewhere. I don't know, I must have said something wrong."

Mika frowned slightly, before writing.

**one of your weak points. next to head density.**

"What's that supposed to mean?"

**that. hope you'll learn to pick up on it. i like mana, you like mana, mana likes you. don't like mana being unhappy.**

"Hey, everyone likes Mana. She's basically the team mascot at this point, I think. To some of us, anyways."

Mika frowned, before writing again.

**head density.**

"Hey, even if you repeat that again, I don't get what you're saying..."

**nevermind then.**

"Uh... alright..."

Kouki was still a bit despondent. Mika wasn't being too much of a help trying to understand Mana. He would have continued picking at his food before the notepad was thrust at him again.

**spar?**

"Wait, you sure, Mika? You just got back, aren't you still tired?"

**strung out. should stay at peak. you're down. we'll feel better fighting.**

"Well, if you want. I wouldn't mind having a match. Though you make it sound like we're fight crazy or something..."

**us more than most. nobody else would go to war as non profit organization.**

-

-

-

The small encampment, for the sake of completeness, had a painfully small recreational room, with a small TV, a few couches, a few shelves of books that have all been re-read a thousand times, and some pinball machines, since this was a military, therefore they had to be painfully out of date.

Mana, who had been wasting her time, was standing on a small crate and reaching her arms around the two sides of The Addams Family Pinball, racking up the scores as best she could, while a few others nameless particulars were in the room, watching reruns or going through magazines.

Then the tent flap/door opened, a guy craning his neck in to announce.

"Hey, guys, if ya'll interested, Kouki and his _girlfriend _ishaving a match. Small pool's going around if you care about that, too. Usual spot."

Since everyone in the rec room had been bored to begin with, a bit of explosion wouldn't have hurt. Mana went because Kouki was her mentor, above all. Though she didn't like how the man called her Kouki's girlfriend. She wasn't old enough to quite catch the sarcasm the man had been drowning the word in.

But she left, with a few dozen other people who were moving to one end of the camp to watch the exchange.

Kouki and Mika were already there, standing in front of each other in a open space, the ground rough and littered with sharp stones. Their hands were empty.

"Careful Mika. Matches are always non-lethal, but I promise you it'll hurt if you get let yourself get hit." Kouki reminded earnestly. Mika nodded placidly, confirming, now that she had left her writing utensils aside somewhere.

The captive audience continued to watch, waiting for the first move between their two entertainers.

Mika moved first. A blackened mist quickly started pouring out from her sleeves, coalescing in her hands, until a pitch black scythe was swinging around in her nimble hands. She lunged forward at Kouki, her created weapon drawn back to strike fast.

The gunman quickly responded, reaching his hands to either side of him, small magic seals imaging themselves just a little ahead of his outstretched palms. From these portals, two Strayer-Voigt Infinities slid out into his open hands. The two handguns were quickly trained onto Mika who was charging towards him, and Kouki hammered away on the triggers, giving way to a drumbeat torrent of fire at her.

Twisting on the toes and heels of her boots, Mika twirled forward, her scythe matching her movements in a showy whirling shield that left bullets ricocheting away as they crashed against the black surface of her weapon.

As Mika approached striking distance, the whirling of her blade turned into a vicious downward slash, aiming at Kouki's face. Kouki dove away as the scythe blade bit into the rocky soil, black smoke rising between the blade and the earth. Sliding across the ground, Kouki twisted around onto his back, and aimed both guns past his feet, and kept up the gun fire. Mika dodged and blocked as she could with her scythe, till she swept the thing towards Kouki with one hand.

On an invisible command, the Scythe's formerly solid shape started wobbling and snaking to life in a long coil that still tapered off into the pointed blade. Mika's slight wrist movements turned the shadowy bladed rope into a wild whipping onslaught that Kouki barely managed to duck and sway away from each time, his handguns sometimes serving to bat away the blade or coil.

However a sly movement from Mika turned the rope around and caused it to tighten around one of Kouki's wrists. Grabbing the line with both ends, she began to pull as hard as she could, which was actually a lot, with her supernaturally enhanced natural strength. Though Kouki managed to stay on his feet, he quickly slid across the ground towards his opponent. The scythe blade disappeared, while the opposite end of the black rope, in Mika's hand, quickly produced a connected sword.

The crowd meanwhile, was growing excited at the change in rhythm, though it only made Mana worry for her mentor.

"Oh, Mika's got him now! There's not too many who can beat her at close combat!"

"I don't know, this is Kouki we're talking about. Tatsumiya Kouki. That's not something to scoff at."

"Hmm..."

"KOUKI-SENSEI! DON'T LOSE TO HER!"

The crowd winced at the child's shrill voice echoing over to her teacher. Kouki heard it still, and smiled.

"Guess I can't look bad in front of Mana... Mika!"

Kouki suddenly calling out to her made her frown in curiosity.

"You still think I'd lose just because I've got guns and it's close range? Well, I should tell you: master gunmen don't have such things like "weak range"!"

Kouki's dragging feet suddenly broke off the ground as he charged towards Mika in a furious run. Mana looked on in awe, remembering the cool line Kouki had just shot off.

Mika had actually been caught off guard. Her effort in pulling Kouki now turned against her, as she was thrown off balance now that Kouki started running and caused the line to go slack. As she was forced to take a heavy step back and regain her balance, Kouki was already on her, aiming one of his guns at her face.

Mika immediately slapped it aside with her black sword, just as the gun discharged. Though her sense of hearing had dulled since the ritual, a gun firing off practically next to it left her wincing, as the loud explosion stabbed deep into her eardrum.

With the ringing pain in her head, Mika nearly missed registering that Kouki other arm had swung around behind his back, and the other handgun was now aimed at her torso

Mika dodged to the side, though the sharp stinging of a "fake" bullet was still felt as it grazed its way past her hip. Hissing in annoyance and paint, Mika watched the fight turn against her, Kouki rushing forward, firing away point blank, while she retreated, her sword growing in size while she blocked rounds.

Kouki, in his sudden aggression, accidentally became over extended, which was a problem especially when he was fighting point blank. He choked as he discovered this mistake as he watched Mika glare and disappear under his pointed arms. As he tried to pull his arms back, he heard the ringing of her blade, and watched something black fly across his arm. There was no actual pain, though, but the sight of white flames dancing along where his limb normally would have been completely severed informed him of the numb paralysis that hit him in that limb just a second after. His useless arm went limp and the gun he held clattered uselessly on the earth.

He heard faintly of the crowd going wild at the decisive advantage Mika now had, but he was more concerned about blocking the black, double handed axe that was coming down on him. Despite the size and weight difference between Mika's war axe and Kouki's lone Strayer-Voigt, the gunner was able to halt the axe above his head with a ringing of metal, while the trigger guard caught the weapon in mid swing at its shaft.

Kouki twisted the barrel towards Mika's face as best he could in one hand. The girl herself gave a face of horror and broke the block as fast as she could, pressing the one of her hands into the bottom half of the axe's handle and slamming it into Kouki's gut.

He fell to the ground in a grunt of pain as Mika's head disappeared in a flash and smoke of exploding magic. Kouki's shook his head, trying to clear his muddied head of the heavy impact on the ground. Defenseless for a second, he was unable to react to Mika's black boot slamming into the back of his loosened gun, sending it flying out of his hand and skittering along the ground away from him. Kouki stared at his missing weapon and then looked up.

Mika's face pushed out of the smoke, and was looking very put off with the smudge and burns she had. With Kouki below her, she raised her axe again, but now the axe head was fading away, while smoke was gathering at the bottom to turn into a down pointed spearhead.

She stabbed downward.

Kouki raised his free, usable hand at her, and with a small sound of latches and springs loosening, a derringer suddenly flew out of his sleeve and into his hand already pointed at her forehead.

She stopped.

Kouki gave a wane grin, "Sorry, Mika, but gunners don't have weak ranges. My finger is still faster than your arms."

Mika stared at him for several seconds, before pouting, and backing away, dispelling her weapon.

The audience applauded, while Mika helped Kouki to his feet. The two of them were considerably dirtier now.

As Kouki looked around, he found Mana squeezed between a few members. He gave her a grin and a thumbs up.

Mana blushed and quickly turned around and left. Kouki gave a chuckle and rubbed his head.

"Ah, there she goes again. At least I think we're alright again. Thanks for the fight, Mika."

Mika shook her head, as if trying to say, "No problem."

-

-

-

The nights in the desert were always clear, beautiful, and exceedingly cold. Tonight, the full moon was out, and there was not a cloud in sight. The whole valley was glowing with light, leaving shadows attached to rocks, to the side of a valley that covered the tents in darkness and allowed those who slept, the chance to sleep with no moonlight irritating them.

There were still men who remained awake, whether for lack of anything better to do, or because they had been chosen to take the current watch over the valley.

Mana was still too young to be allowed to be patrolling, especially at the freezing temperatures the desert currently was. But she wanted to be alone, and some of them relented and said she could sit still and keep an eye out, only after she bundled herself up well. Not that she argued. Even huddled down with a blanket atop everything extra she had been wearing, she could feel the cold coming through. She pulled the blanket closer around her self, shifting her legs slightly to keep her knees pinning the rifle together while it fell back against her shoulder and cheek. There she sat, on the upper edge of the valley, looking across the vast expanse, with the moonlight coming down on her.

She heard an intentionally loud crunch of gravel behind her, and she turned her head as much as she could. She was met with the sight of Mika climbing her way up to her. She was wearing a heavier jacket, but otherwise seemed less bothered by the cold than Mana.

When she reached the younger girl on "watch", Mana looked up.

"You want something?"

Mika answered with another of those smiles that would have made you think she was up to something, before reaching into her jacket and pulling out a thermos. Giving it a shake, Mana could hear the sloshing something liquid inside.

Mana snorted while Mika sat down next to her and poured a cup of steaming... whatever it was. It was hard to see when everything was either white moonlight or the shadows.

"I'm sorry, Harami, but I'm too busy covering myself to drink anything you offer-" Mana tried to push that girl away, but was cut short when a metal cup of the stuff was still thrust into her view from the side.

Mika kept that stupid smile on her face. Mana noticed several gauze patches and band-aids on her face where there wasn't any earlier in the day.

With a sigh, the younger girl admitted a few fingers outside her protective cocoon and accepted the cup with a mumbled "alright".

Bitter black coffee to keep her warm and awake in the night.

"Aren't you cold?" Mana let herself ask. Mika shrugged.

"...You better have not hurt Kouki-sensei too much, fighting him..."

Mika shut her eyes and gave a series of sharp and audible exhales that might have been her laughing. Mana looked at her, annoyed.

Mika wrote something out and showed it to Kouki-sensei's worried apprentice.

**don't worry. he hurt me more.**

"Well... I hope he did. He won."

**he did.** Mika responded, then put away her notepad to pour her own cup of coffee.

"...Why are you up here, anyways?"

**worry about you two. don't sleep much anyways.**

"There's nothing to worry about. Kouki-sensei and I are getting along fine." Mana grumbled. She figured Mika would have brought the topic up, always acting so concerned about her and Kouki.

**notice you two starting to get more tense, though. chemistry is off. soldiers know about chemistry.**

"Well, we're fine."

Mika didn't write anything, and drank more coffee, and so did Mana, as they watched the moon.

"You're not going to leave till you get a satisfactory answer, aren't you?"

**no.**

Egh.

"Tch. There's nothing wrong with us, Harami. I just wish Kouki-sensei would rely on me more..."

**rely? you're partners.**

"No I'm not," Mana grumbled, "I'm his student... I'm his responsibility. He'll never take my seriously... He only sees me as... I don't know..."

_A sister._

"...But I wish he could trust me more. I want him to look at me like..."

_A girl who likes him._

"...a partner."

Mika listened on. She thought about it. Then she started writing.

**there is a way.**

"...What?"

**there is a way. kouki is a mage, technically. there's a system for mages to get partners.**

-

-

-

The next day, Kouki was back in the cafeteria during "typical" breakfast times, meaning the room was fairly packed with other hungry soldiers. The air was noisy with loud conversations and the clacking of cutlery meeting plates and trays slamming down onto the tables.

He was slowly going through a cup of overly milky and sweetened coffee, still worried as to where Mana had been for the past day and night. She hadn't even checked in. He tried to remain unworried, but he just didn't know what was going through his student's head. What if she did something stupid?

"'ey! Mana! Where've you been?"

Somebody said that somewhere, and Kouki perked up, turning his head in the direction of the announcement. True enough, he found Mana stalking her way over to him, staring at him.

She came to him with a look and movement of a utmost dead set clarity, as if the whole world had just made way to a destination that she only needed to walk to. The men that noticed turned and watched, amused. But all the same the noise died around where she walked, in the path up to stand in front of her teacher.

Kouki was afraid she was deadly upset now.

_Alright, Kouki. Just play it cool. Drink your coffee, be calm and disarming, and just hear what she has to say._

"Hey, Mana...?"

Mana looked him straight in the eye.

"Tatsumiya Kouki-sensei. I want to be your partner. Kiss me."

Boy. Girl. Partner. Kiss. Partner. Girl. Boy.

Kiss.

(Age issues.)

Kouki spat out his coffee.

-

-

-

"I'm sorry, Mana. I just had a weird thought. Took it completely out of context. You're trying to say you want to have a Pactio, right? Hmm... what do they call partners... Minister Magi, I think... Are you sure about this, Mana? Even provisional Pactios are kinda a big deal... wasn't really expecting to make one in my life, you know..."

"It's fine, Kouki-sensei. I just want to be able to help you more. I want to be a partner, as well as your student."

The two of them walked back to the familiar empty space on the end of the encampment, talking as they went. Kouki kept rubbing his head, while Mana kept her sights focused on the empty spot where Kouki-sensei would do his spell.

"I suppose. But you're still young. I haven't even taught you everything yet..."

"I'll keep learning from you, Kouki-sensei. I just want to keep up with you."

"It's not like you were ever in my way, Mana."

"I know... but... I just want to be your equal."

Kouki looked down at her, and sighed, before patting her head, "I forget how fast you mature, Mana..."

"...Well, I suppose I also want you to have my first kiss..." Mana mumbled, blushing a little.

"Ngharghk."

Kouki stumbled on a rock.

"Kouki-sensei, are you alright?" Mana twisted to look at her teacher, who managed to stagger forward a bit and catch himself before he dashed himself on the desert ground.

"Y-Yeah. I'm good. Let's get you your Pactio... eheh... Oh, morning, Mika."

Kouki's friend passed them, leaving the empty grounds with nary but a wave behind her, smirking.

The gunner raised an eyebrow at her back, wondering when she started trying to act so cool.

"Kouki-sensei, look. On the ground." Mana tugged on his arm. Turning around he found an area that had been cleared of the larger rocks, and on the relatively smooth ground, traced out in black was a large magic seal, big enough to fit two people.

"Wait a minute, that's... for Pactios..."

_Don't tell me Mika and Mana are somehow in on this..._

"Kouki-Sensei...?"

"Mana, just to make absolutely sure, you want to do this, right?"

"Kouki-sensei."

He made the mistake of looking Mana in the eye. What he saw there again was that deep conviction of the need to do what was about to do be done, the clarity that she was going to do this one way or another, and he was certainly going to help her with it. It almost made him feel guilty for posing the question, even when he was the teacher and senior in this pair.

Women can be weird.

Holding the hand of his partner, Kouki moved the two of them inside the circle, which immediately triggered the lights shining around them. All it needed was a sign of the two showing allegiance to each other.

Kouki scratched the side of his head, at a bit of a loss.

"It's... bright."

"Kouki-sensei... could you kneel?"

The idea of him kissing Mana was still a bit... this is weird.

But she wanted to give him the "first kiss", which was always important. He at least should honor that.

"R-Right..."

He got down on both his knees, and found himself face to face with Mana. She was smiling.

"Thank you, Kouki-sensei."

"...It's no problem. I'm your teacher."

"Partner."

"...Yeah. Let's be a great team." Kouki cooly returned, giving a small turning up of the lips, too.

In the end, they couldn't really call it anything other than what it was. Creating a partnership. It wasn't weird or normal, necessary or pointless, natural or forced. It was just something that Mana decided to happen, and Kouki decided to allow.

And so, Mana leaned forward and pressed her lips against her teacher's, the person she admired so much for giving her a new world.

She just hoped one day he would realize how exactly she wanted to share the world with him.

They did not know how it would go in another five years. How personalities would change, or how the small girl would go on to become Tatsumiya, taking up the lessons and firearms in his memory, if not the partnership. Of all the new people she would meet, and simply smile off cooly. How she would go to school and see Japan like he wanted.

If they saw the future, Kouki still would have been proud of how student, his younger sister, went on to live her life.

But they don't see the future, because the future isn't important for soldiers in the Afghan desert, save as tactical decisions, and certainly not for a young man and a young girl sharing a kiss to become partners.

**-**

**-**

**-**

**Name:** Tatsumiya Kouki

**Weapon of Choice:** Enhanced Firearms, Magic Firearms.

**Favorite Film: **"The Three Musketeers" (1993, Stephen Herek)

**Points of Interest: **Arkana Mana's Magister Magi

**Profession: **Mage Gunner, Kanbanurae Operative.


	6. Da Lin

**Da Lin**

**

* * *

**

"_Wong Fei Hung, how terrible! You attempt to cheat me even while I'm disciplining you! Obviously my lessons have no effect on you. Therefore I have to resort to drastic measures."_

_"Dad, what do you mean?"_

_"I've called a friend of mine to train you in his martial art. If there's anyone who can teach you some manners, it'll be him!"_

_"Who!"_

_"Beggar Soskghtklllesshhzzzzzz-"_

The room exploded at the sight of the television breaking up into static.

"Agh! Just as it was getting good!" One particular student in the room sighed. Everybody called him Baldie since he joined the Shaolin sect half of the school. Being bald like a monk wasn't actually necessary here, but he was rather hardcore about the idea, and decided to keep the lack of hairstyle, even after seeing that everyone was in fact allowed to have hair.

He, along with many other children, were seated in a somewhat beaten room, which had survived on hardiness of its plaster construction, while the furniture was made of dark wood and rattan, which seemed to all be older than them. The TV at the very least, wasn't something new, but the dish on the roof and Satellite connection was one of their few sources to the outside world (and entertainment).

"I wonder if it's because the dish outside is covered... it has been snowing a lot these days..."

The one pondering was the school's star prodigy in the Shaolin sect, who was sitting on the floor, legs crossed. She was a thirteen year old girl from further North who went by the name of Ku Fei. Or "Ku Laozi", ever since Pai Laoshi walked in on her while she was in the middle of demonstrating her sparkling caricature of old masters to the other students.

(Pai Laoshi, of course, was not without a sense of humor. It's why Ku Fei still remembered the "exercise" that followed, the name of which Pai Laoshi had "jokingly invented" was "Monkey Traverses Burning Bamboo Forest, Tigers With Pneumatic Steel Claws Lying in Wait".)

"Fei, can't you go and fix it?" Baldie begged his senior.

"Eh... Me?" Ku pointed at herself, possibly trying to play dumb.

"You're the only one who can go up to the dish and fix it!"

"But... its really cold out..."

"Come on, pleaaase!"

Other children around the room joined in with cajoling and pleading with Ku.

"But I can't do it by myself, though." Ku explained, rubbing her head.

"Can't you get Lin to help? She's the same level as you, anyways." Baldie answered again.

"But she's... asleep, last I checked."

"Ku Laozi. Are you saying..."

Baldie dramatically aimed a finger at the flickering screen.

"...You don't want to have our only TV working!"

Ku wasn't necessarily one to buckle at the sight of everyone in the room (who were all younger than her, anyways), staring at her pleadingly. Though they did give a good point, and they probably would keep hounding her till she left the relative warmth of this den and into the freezing cold on their behalf.

So she grinned helplessly ad relented, heading out to save everybody's television.

The internal courtyards, covered as they were on all sides by tall buildings, meant Ku didn't need to immediately deal with a blizzard the moment she stepped outside. Bundled up in a large coat, she trudged across the retooled Monastery that was set high and deep into Mount Heaven, central China, leaving her footwork in the snow behind her.

Across the courtyard and down another plain plaster corridor, Fei pushed open a pair of slat wood doors. In a corner of the spartan room by the window was a hard bed, a lump hidden under the covers. Ku Fei walked over to the body hidden in the sheets, before patting the top of it.

"Donut... Donut, get up..."

"...No... half day today... wanna to sleep't all..."

"Come on, I need your help to fix the satellite dish. Lin...!" Ku gave the body on the bed a few more good thumps.

"N-nggauuh!"

Da Lin woke with a start, jumping up to waking while sitting in her bed. Hair long black hair spilled awkwardly in every angle. It might have been a silken piece of beauty at a better time, but in the mornings, it was just a nightmare. Blearily looking around for a few seconds, the older, taller girl finally fixed her squint on Ku.

"...The dish y'say?"

"Yeah. We were watching a movie, and I think the ice and snow collected up again."

"I guess... that's bad... but I'm tired..." Lin whined, though it might have been more of a demand of a bribe.

Ku, of course, came prepared, reaching behind her back to produce a rather fat cinnamon roll, which got Lin's hazy, dilated eyes opening.

"Oohh... breakfast..."

That was the last thing that came out of Donut's mouth before her mouth latched onto the pastry while it was still in Ku Fei's hand. Ku gave a joking sigh at her friend munching away, before she grabbed Lin by the collar of her shirt, dragging her off the bed.

"Come on, Lin. It's no good if you just waste the whole day sleeping like this. You need to get up."

"Mmpphgh." Lin said, mouth full, before she fell of the bed, Ku having no less than a hand in it.

"Lin! Wake up already!"

* * *

"Ugh. We're t'only ones out here in t'cold..." Lin shivered while she hid her hands under the sleeves of her white changshan, which had very masculine cuts to it, leaving the sleeves baggy and the sides draping down and hiding her female shape, large black pants and shoes working the rest of their magic to ensure she wasn't much of a woman with those clothes. The one openly female vanity she had, her black hair that trailed down till it was practically at the back of her knees, was all bundled together behind her back in cloth sleeve that was cinched tight on both ends.

"Well, that comes with being looked up to everyone in our schools." Ku grinned, as she kept pace beside her more willowy senior as they returned to the gently snowing courtyards.

"Soon it's gonna just be me..." Lin grumbled, "Do you really gotta leave?"

"Well... it's just I want to see the world." Ku admitted, "I've had a great time living here, but with this exchange scholarship... I want to go to Japan."

"I suppose I shouldn't be too bothered b'it, but I hear Pai Laoshi and Bei Sifu argue 'bout it a lot..."

"Really? What do they say?"

"...Suppose I could say, since you're practically Pai Laoshi's head student 'till you go..." Lin went back to mumbling to herself, head adrift.

"Well?" Ku insisted again. Lin returned from her stupor.

"Well... it's just... Pai Laoshi... he really want you to stay. Imma be Bei Sifu's successor to Wudang when she gonna retire, but Pai Laoshi still hasn't found 'nyone with 'nough talent to learn everything from him. He woulda preferred you, but you won't consider Shaolin full time. Kinda depressin'."

"Come on, Donut, I'm not that great..."

"That's just modesty talking. E'rybody knows you're one of those supah-prodigys. You took to Shaolin so fast. You have a lotta potential, but you're going back to school, which is why it's a bitta a waste."

Ascending the stairs, Ku talked back to Lin, who followed slowly on the steps, "You still tend to win every time it's the two of us, Donut."

"Ah, but Ku Laozi's raw talent already makes her near'y my equal at 13 years old. 'S only my 7 extra years of constant experience that I win. If you practiced full-time like me, Ku, I know Shaolin woulda been superior to Wudang for our generation."

"Well... that's too bad, I guess." Ku lamely finished. Lin was dyed-in-the-wool martial artist who's interest in the wellbeing of the arts topped even her's. It came with being such a start student, always being handling Bei Sifu's tasks.

"Yeah... You probably hear enough about how small the Martial Arts World has gotten from Pai Laoshi, it's why he takes someone of your talent leaving us so bad. You know. How it's gotten to the point Shaolin's sharin' with Wudang here on Moun' Heav'n."

"Ho, Ho...!" Ku nodded, her voice turning to a mock groan of a sage, while she weaved her fingers through an invisible beard, "The Martial Arts World used to support the Chinese government, but now it's the government that supports us!"

Lin nodded, too, though she didn't bother putting up a imitation of a voice, "We weren't v'ry pop'lar wi'the Communists...!"

"We weren't very popular with the Manchurians!"

"Bu'the Martial Arts World will contin'e to survive!"

"Hoooo!"

Ku Laozi's last exultation left her and Donut breaking down into giggles, as they wound up a few more stairs and reached the bottom of a step ladder that continued up to a hatch in the ceiling.

"...It's gonna be a blizzard up there, right?"

"Unfortunately."

"Ugh. Moun' Heav'n. 'S only mid-autumn, too..."

"Well, you take the good with the bad, right?"

"Hmm... wonder'll be any snow'n Japan..."

They ascended the ladder, Lin first. When she pushed the hatch open to the roof of the monastery where the dish was installed, the two girls were immediately blasted with ice cold wind and peppering snow.

Most people would probably figure going out into a blizzard in these temperatures wasn't particularly smart, but Lin and Ku seemed to think nothing of it, save an off-hand comment, "Let's get this done fast. I don't want to get a cold..."

Trudging across inches deep layers of snow, the two of them reached a large metal structure that might have possibly been their radio receiving dish, had the front of it not been completely covered with pack snow frozen in place with a layer of ice. The two stared at it for a moment.

"...Wowee." Ku said.

"I dun think we can just whack it down with'a broom..." Lin mentioned, while trying to keep her hair from ripping off her head with one hand.

"I'm going to have to break that ice. Can you get the snow down after that from down here?"

"W-well, sure... but is gettin' in front of t'dish safe?" Lin asked nervously.

"Huh?"

"Well, I heard there was a guy who gotta Darwin Award, 'cause he tried to warm himself up 'front of a dish, and got himself microwaved to death 'cause of it. Won't you get microwaved if you jump in front of it?"

"Wait a minute, I borrowed that book from you." Ku retorted quizzically, "That guy sat in front of the dish the whole night. I'm just going to be up there for a moment."

"...Oh."

"It's okay, Donut!" Ku cheerfully promised her friend, "Just get ready!"

"'riiight..." Lin drawled, while she slowly paced her way over to behind the dish, standing near one of the supporting struts.

Looking up, Ku gave a little smirk. She took a deep breath, widened the placement of her feet, squatted for just an instant before a cry and a leap sent her several feet into the air in front of the stuck ice. Bringing her foot straight up, Ku's heel dove right into the glassy, frosted layer. As she dropped down, the fracture spider-webbed outward, digging deep crevasse in the damaged ice. Ku move out of the way as larger chunks of ice and snow fell from pattern, while motioning to Lin.

"Okay, Lin! Do it!"

Where the other girl was, she made her own breath, slowly moving body to and fro, arms waving in wide circles, before bringing her palm back, so in a sudden movement she swept them both forward to impact the back of the strut with a dull clang.

It wasn't very much of a reverberation, but it was more than enough to send all the snow that had been packed over time to cascade of the dish in a torrent off the roof, missing Ku who had been standing to the side.

As the snow subsided, Ku and Lin returned to the front to admire their handiwork for a second.

"Good. Now we can watch the rest of Drunken Master."

"Drunk'n Master? Couldn't you watch somethin' from an 'merican channel? I liked Batman Begins."

"What's wrong with Jackie Chan?"

"Nuthin'... just figured we got Satellite to watch not Chinese shows..."

Before the discussion could continue, there was the deep sound of the bell chiming, marking the end of half of the day. Ku and Lin looked at each other, and sighed. There went their movie.

* * *

"But isn't the point of Tai Chi to-"

"No, no, not like that... the whole 'nalogy about water dun mean "be limp like a fish". Redirectin' force needs strength of your own to be able to move the greater 'mount of the force. No point raisin' your fist if you gonna not try keepin' one from pumm'lin' you."

Out in a snowy yard, students from both schools had taken opposite ends, and once again continued training their bodies, physically, or through the continued imitation of the Shaolin or Wudang forms.

At this point, the advanced students were the ones here. Beginners, with their more mundane exercises, were relegated elsewhere. As it were, Bei Sifu had been out of the monastery for a good week or two, leaving several lower level masters to keep things in order. Lin particularly gave the tutoring for the novices. Her smaller age gap compared to other students here might have been cause for consternation, but given she literally was Wudang's foremost expert in flipping people around with just her wrist strength at the moment, the kids knew when to bow their heads.

On the otherside, Pai Laoshi, with his severe look and white super eyebrows and beard, was giving instruction personally, Ku at his side to give physical examples.

"Donut! Donut!"

The nickname caught Lin's attention. Turning from the field, she found an older man, one of the lower level masters, rushing at her at full tilt (without the intent to attack). Stopping in front of her, the man dropped his hands onto his knees, catching his breath.

"Yeah?"

"Bei... Sifu... just got back... you... should go... meet...!"

Lin's dull eyes widened in some strange emotion that hit any other normal salaryman when they hear their boss is coming for inspection. Instantly, she took off, leaving the field, knowing just as well that the man she left behind would take over lessons for her.

Lin had just finished skidding around a corner when the venerable and matronly Bei Sifu had entered the front atrium of the monastery.

"Bei Sifu!"

The elderly woman with that severe bun of gray hair behind her head, turned and smiled, while Lin coughed to herself discreetly and bowed at the waist, hand and palm together in front of her.

"Ahem... Bei Sifu, I hope you've had a good trip. Let me take your coat."

Bei acceded the gesture and let her student gently pull the overcoat from her. As Lin finished bundling it around her arms, she heard a dark mutter. It was barely audible,

"Suck up..."

That dark mutter struck a nerve in Lin, but she didn't let it show. Instead, she turned to the one who made the comment.

"Hello there!" Lin smiled.

"Hmph." Was all she said. She was a frowning western girl, some age younger than Lin, but she couldn't tell. She was taller than Ku, so might might have been between 15 or 16 years old. Compared to the local residents at Mount Heaven, she was dressed rather flashily, blue jeans, a tank top, and a hardy jacket. Blonde hair reached her shoulders lifelessly, framing a freckled face and an unamused half-lidded stare with a pair of curiously red eyes. Not blood red. Just a sort of weak, wine and orange shade.

Lin noted the fact the girl being able to weather Mount Heaven's less-than-delectable... weather, and in some rather comparatively thin clothes, was very similar to a regular student here, after receiving a year or two of training.

Either she lived on frozen mountains constantly, or...

Bei Sifu turned back to the girl, "Well, now that you've met her, I might as well introduce the two of you. Jeane, this is Da Lin. Lin, this is Jeane Touch-"

"It's just Jeane." The westerner snarled, cutting Bei Sifu off with surprisingly fluent Mandarin, "I don't need a family name. I don't have a family."

Bei Sifu shrugged to Lin, disarming a frown that was momentarily on the student's face, "Well, there you have it. She'll be staying here."

"Ah, new resid'nt...!" Lin clapped her hands together cheerfully, smiling out any possible grievance she had. It's not like her heart was small, "Should I show Jeane to'n avai'ble room, then? Or would you prefer me prepare tea f'r you and her? Makes me wond'r, we're runnin' a li'l short on the strong leaves..."

"No need, Lin. I'll find a room for her personally. Just take my coat to my place, and prepare some tea. I have something to discuss with you, later."

"Yes, Sifu."

Lin bowed at Bei Sifu and Jeane as they left, the old master talking on to Jeane about the place.

* * *

Bei Sifu's room was comparable to an office, given everybody here was still living in a retooled monastery.

The furniture, like most everything on Mount Heaven, was wood and plain, based on the philosophy of being as durable and functional as possible. There was a good chance at least half the furniture in the room was older than Lin, and the other half older than Bei Sifu. The one thing that stood out was Bei's heirloom weapon, which remained in its six pieces, each mounted individually on the wall in a column, with a long cloth blanket wrapping their shapes and masking it from view.

Bei Sifu was not behind the mahogany desk this time. Rather, she sat on the wood sofa, on the other side of a low table opposite of Lin, who perhaps a bit too graciously, decided to be kneeling on the ground. It did put her at a perfect height to the open box of pastries her master brought back.

"Here, Sifu, made your tea." Lin said, pushing the porcelain cup to her master.

"Thank you. Don't hold back for me. I brought those back for my favorite student." Bei Sifu encouraged in turn. Lin took no more time hesitating in stuffing her face with an eclair, and making a borderline inappropriate noise of satisfaction to having access to sugar again.

"Have you been consistent in your training, Lin?"

Lin swallowed her snack, before answering, "Of course, Bei Sifu. As th'one you picked to inher't your skills 'n' tools, I must be able to maintain the responsibil'ty you've giv'n to me."

"That's good. Shame that Ku girl will be leaving this spring... Pai's back to square one..." Bei thought to herself aloud.

"Sifu, not t'make any 'ssumptions, but I'm guessin' you wanna talk to me about Jeane?" Lin asked, deciding to cut to the matter. Her master nodded.

"I want to keep her here as a student."

"Sifu, 's that smart? Just thinking if Pai Laoshi. He isn't exactly fond of for'gners. Especially after one poisoned his brother. You know, the story about the student poisoning the fish heads after Pai Laoshi's brother plucked one of her eyes."

Bei Sifu shrugged, "Another one of his students, also a westerner also avenged him, I believe. So the point is moot. I'll talk to Pai later. I just need to ask you about Jeane. How comfortable are you with the idea of killing, Lin?"

Lin considered the question for a few moments.

"Well, can't really say for cert'in. Haven't gotten in a fight so serious I had t'kill someone yet. But I always took Bei Sifu's lessons seri'sly. I'm not here to learn t'kill, but I am here to learn t'fight. If I fight, I'm gonna end up hurtin' someone, and if I'm gonna end up killin' someone, then I told you I'm prepared t'do it. The Martial Arts World is different from normal society 'n' all."

"An acceptable answer. I needed to know if you're capable of being comfortable of being around Jeane."

"She killed people already?" Lin said without so much as blinking.

"Unfortunately. It's part of the reason I want her in a better environment. When I found her, she was training under an assassin. She can tell you the details, if she ever tells you."

"Ah."

"Whatever she's been through, it's probably too late to return her to normal life, but I can at least give her better training here. She has a lot of rage in her, as you can see. If I can act fast enough, I might be able save her before she poisons herself."

"Hmm... so, what'd you want me t'do?"

"Keep an eye on her. See if you can get Ku Fei to help, too, since she'll probably start training in the Shaolin external arts. Jeane, though, already is at an advanced level from a physical standpoint, but she doesn't know anything about the spiritual aspect. Martial Arts is purely a weapon for her. Because of that, she's out of balance. She'll be held back, no doubt, and she's very impatient."

"That's no good."

"No. There's not going to be enough time to prevent some damage being done before she learns these things," Bei Sifu sighed, "It may be a matter of weeks, but no doubt, Jeane will get into a fight. When that happens, I want you there to stop her and defuse the situation. I don't want you to fix her problems, leave that to me and Pai, but it's necessary to show her that her level of technique is insignificant compared to a balanced mind and body."

Lin cupped her fist in obedience, "Yes, Sifu. I'll make sure she won't hurt 'nybody. Too much." She decided not to ask about how good Jeane actually was at fighting. It was going to be a mind-over-matter thing, anyways, plus it seemed like Bei Sifu had nothing but complete assurance in Lin's own skill level.

"Thank you." Bei Sifu answered, genuinely grateful, "Please, don't mind me. I did buy those pastries for you."

"Wiiigght." Lin rather inelegantly said, talking while a good chuck of cinammon roll was melting in her mouth, "Three top stu'ents... s'totally like _The Storm Riders_..."

Perhaps it was highly fortunate that when Jeane finally did snap, it wasn't on a lower level student. Jeane hadn't bought the "bullshit" about her mentality being out of sync with her technique. Having only that explanation for the reason she was returning to the basics instead of expanding her repertoire of ass-kicking techniques like she believed she should have, she seethed until eventually one teacher became too insistent that Jeane shut up and just do as she was told. He went flying five feet into the air with the the pattern of the soles of Jeane's Nikes on his chest for his trouble.

When Lin had finally arrived after being informed of a massive brawl that was taking place outside of the larger training halls, she found Jeane had already taken out three more masters, and at least seven others surrounding her, teachers from both Shaolin and Wudang schools.

"That's enough!" Lin shouted, catching everyone's attention. That and everyone was mildly displeased the first thing they noticed was her licking away bit of cream she had wiped off her cheek with a finger.

Murmurs of "Da Lin" or "Donut" came through the teachers, who moved aside in a show of respect.

Jeane gave a turn of her head, sniffing at the newcomer as her wheat hair moved away from her red eyes, "Well, if isn't the little suck up."

Lin gave a slightly vapid turn of her lips upward, annoying the westerner, "Hel'o, Jeane. Aren'tcha bein' a bit too rough on the teachers? They're only doin' their job."

"What job? They haven't even given me anything worthwhile to learn."

"I don't know. Maybe you're missin' the lesson, then?"

Jeane snorted contemptuously at that, mostly because it was coming from Lin's mouth of all people, "Oh, look who's talking. Sometimes I wonder how a lazy fuck who can't even be bothered to completely pronounce her words is that old woman's pupil. Or did you stop thinking so hard after she picked you, now that you got your life all paved out for you?"

"Ah, that's cold. I wouldn' call m'self lazy... I just... take life at m'own pace."

"Yeah, I'm sure I never heard that excuse before."

"Ah well, Jeane, words won't hurt me. If y'wish to make a point by breakin' my bones, then you'll hav'ta use sticks and stones. Or your bare hands." Lin smiled.

"Is that a challenge?" Jeane glared.

"There's no point bein' polite and actin' like y'don't think you'd be a better pupil than me. Might as well try 'n' prove y'point." With that, Lin starting sweeping her arms around as she settled herself into a ready stance.

"Some Tai Chi tricks won't help you here." Jeane smirked, as she balled her hands into fists. The teachers began to dismiss themselves from the area.

"Oh, that's a'right. I have some other Wudang stuff I can use, too."

Jeane didn't even answer that, simply running across the snowy grounds to leap at Lin in a flying kick. In a simple movement, Lin easily side-stepped the kick, and with Jeane's back to her while still in mid air, her outstretched palms waved and slapped into the blonde's back and thigh, knocking her out of her clean flight back and sending her rolling through the snow sideways. Spinning herself onto her knees, Jeane shook the snow from her head before growling and charging at Lin, fists raised.

Lin managed to raise her arms defensively in time, but was still surprised at the sheer speed Jeane had. Definite proof and a reminder that Jeane had something genuine to feed her pride. Jeane spat out her fists in rapid fashion. Swaying away from the swing, Lin started slapping or rolling away the blows with her forearms. Jeane started closing the distance till they were practically in each other's faces. Lin's defense only made her want to drop her fists even faster than before.

With this, at the next right hook managed to tag Lin in the opposite's shoulder. Refusing to stagger away at the blow, Lin rather twisted at the hip and on the ball of one of heels, letting herself spin around once with the blow,. In the middle of this, she ducked down. With Jeane's arm still twisted to the other side of her body, her ribs and stomach were open to Lin's harsh slam of her shoulder.

Gasping, Jeane stumbled back from the sudden firm shoulder check, while Lin's upper body was snapping back up, her arm particularly reaching for Jeane's own as she waved it back in her stumble. Gripping Jeane's wrist, Lin brought the girl's backwards movement to a halt, with Jeane's visibly gritted teeth showing the discomfort and strain her shoulder felt. Then Lin's hold suddenly turned into a sudden jerk backward, sending Jeane back towards Lin while her free hand was already flat open in a palm.

Jeane's body mass met Lin's palm squarely just under her ribs. With the two forces meeting from opposite directions, the blonde nearly doubled over her opponent's arm. Lin wasn't done though. With Jeane's weight still heaving forward, her other hand now swung under Jeane, catching her in the back of her knee. Sweeping upward, Jeane was thrown off her feet and landed heavily on her back.

"Oof!" Was all that came out of her, while Lin twisted away, falling back into a ready posture.

"Is my Wudang a'right 'nough for you, Jeane?" Lin said, fighting back a smirk.

"Fuck you!" Jeane coughed out, as she got back onto her feet. Without even bothering to prepare, Jeane already had moved to stalk towards Lin, who awaited, albeit with some confusion.

_She's not even being careful. Is her temper so short-_

Jeane foot suddenly dug into the snow, and in a wide seep, her leg lashed out and threw several feet of snow at Lin's upper body. A good deal of it smacked into face, forcing the older girl back as she winced and tried to blink away at the frost melting in her eyes.

While she was blinded, she had no chance to read Jeane's onslaught. She rushed in, hammering away with her fists at any spot of Lin's body she could find, while Lin could only bring up her arms over her chest to protect it. It still wasn't enough for the side kick that struck her in the chest with such force that she was thrown to the ground.

Jeane would have followed with an straight up and down axe kick onto Bei's student, had not another unexpected leg intercepted the attack, knocking Jeane back a few steps.

Jeane easily recognized the interloper, as she indignantly snapped a finger at her, "Back off, Ku, you've got nothing to do with this!"

Ku glared quite righteously at Jeane, "I won't let you get away with cheap hits on Lin like that! You're not even going to fight with Lin, just beat her up! That's unacceptable."

"Huh, so you're willing to stick up for that deadbeat?" Jeane snorted, as she watched Ku put herself in a ready position quite defensively between her and Lin, who was in the middle of wiping her eyes clean of the snow while lying on the ground.

"She's my friend!"

"Hmph. Well your taste in friends is shit."

"Why, you-!"

"Ku, wait. 'S alright."

Ku turned back to Lin, who had gotten back to her feet while blinking the remaining vestiges of water from her eyes.

"Lin, she kicked snow at you!" Ku argued, but Lin just shook her head. She was amazingly alright with that.

"'S okay. I just underest'mated her. Jeane doesn't play 'round in a fight, she's int'rested in winnin'. 'S alright, though. Martial arts isn't just kid's play for us."

Ku stared at her friend oddly for a second, before shrugging in defeat and taking a few steps back.

Lin waved over to Jeane, "Sorry for not takin' this seri'sly! Should we try 'gain?"

"Don't try and act all friendly with me." Jeane said with a frown and folded arms.

"Right, right. But your gonna do everythin' to win this fight, means 's alright for me to do everythin', too. You ready?" Lin asked, while she brought up her arms slowly, ready.

"Go ahead-!" Was all that came out of Jeane's mouth as she flung herself towards Lin again. Bei's start student backed away from Jeane's attacks, dodging as she could. Jerking back from a high roundhouse, before raising one of her feet to miss the low sweep. The wide kicks suddenly changed pace when Jeane lunged in, catching Lin off guard when her view was taken up entirely by the blonde's leer. Jeane's face was replaced with the bottom of her foot as she leaned away in a massive rising kick that made liberal use of her ability to do horizontal splits.

The sole crashed into the side of Lin's face with enough force to lift her off the ground, rocking her jaw and making her world vibrated for a second.

Though the searing pain of Lin's jaw grinding in place and possibly desperately trying not to disintegrate, she remembered that things only had strength so long as they had were rooted in the ground. At least for the likes of Ku and Jeane. But for her, even the wind could push someone over.

As Jeane's kick flung her through the air, Lin's hand quickly darted out and snatched Jeane by the ankle of her raised foot. Thus, Jeane's smirk turned into a look of shock, as the force of the kick she laid into Lin was now being used to drag her into the air with the older girl. Jeane had scoffed that Lin's supposed magical Tai Chi bullshit couldn't save her, but now she found that same bullshit was actually working.

Stuck suspended in the air for a few seconds, Jeane was helpless with nothing to hold onto. Unfortunately for her, Lin was higher above her, and now had the great advantage of gravity on her side. Twisting so she faced downwards, Lin jerked herself into movement, falling while her whole body spun.

Jeane couldn't do much more than flair helplessly before Lin's two palms slammed into her chest and stomach. It lacked the explosive display of Jeane's attacks, but nonetheless, the blow made itself felt, as Jeane hurtled down and slammed into the stone tiling on the ground with enough force to leave a cracked indentation under her. Jeane twisted on the ground and gave a choked strangle of pain. Immediately she rolled away as Lin landed where she was just. Her feet slamming onto the already abused tiling made nary a sound, but Jeane was certain there was still an impressive amount of force in the deceptively light landing.

Bei's star student didn't allow Bei's sterling new guest a chance to recover, running and making a short leap towards Jeane, foot outstretched to drop a heel down on her. On her back, the blonde blocked the dropping foot with her forearms and roughly smacked it away from her so she could flip onto her feet. The force applied to Lin's leg spun her around while she sat on the ground. With the loose and wet snow, the momentum was enough to let Lin spin around up and onto her feet. Lin ended the spinning with a palm strike that had been loaded at her waist and sent it hurtling to Jeane's face. Jeane brought one of her arms in front of her face and blocked the strike. To that, Lin instantly and instinctively brought her other palm back and slammed into into the back of her first hand. The sudden applied force to Jeane's block sent her stumbling backward. Her arms flailed as she tried to not fall backwards as her feet kept failing to find a solid hold on the wet snow. Lin followed, her palms sliding through the air in soft movements.

Jeane, however, had been staggering back towards the steps of the training hall. The moment her heel landed upon the sharp edges of the steps, Jeane found her opening. With solid ground, Jeane kicked off the stairs, flying towards Lin with a kick. The foot slammed into Lin's mid-section, eliciting a smirk from Jeane. At least until Lin looked back, and seemed equally amused. The other girl began to notice that Lin had rocked back on her heels, and her body had rather folded around the foot than be knocked back.

_Did she... did she actually find a way to absorb the blow!_

That was when Lin swung her stomach out. Using all the strength in her waist, Lin spat Jeane's foot out like a sling shot, throwing the blonde back against the large wood doors of the training hall. Before she could even move, Lin was already upon her. Both palms drove themselves into Jeane's chest with enough force to send her crashing through the doors.

Lin exhaled, and dropped her arms.

Ku called from behind Lin, "Hey! Is everything over, yet?"

"Hm... I think... I hit her pret'y 'ard that time, mos' people quit b'now..." Lin wondered even to herself, as she skipped off the steps and ran up to Ku. Any further conversation they had was stopped when Ku looked past Lin's head with something between consternation, surprise, and maybe horror, but not nearly that much since she was the star student in kicking people's faces in.

Lin looked in Ku's direction, back to doors of the training hall, and made her own grimace. Jeane was in the middle of emerging from the unlit interior, spitting a gob of red spittle onto the ground. In her hand was a saber, a particularly vicious one that had several metal rings looped through the back spine, intended to add extra weight for every blow.

Lin forgot that training halls tended to have such things as racks of weapons.

"A-Ah... Di'n't know y'knew how to handle weapons..." Lin chuckled nervously.

"Yeah, figured you'd be too dumb to know. Let's see you push away a sword." Jeane kept glaring.

Lin took a step back, not very pleased at Jeane walking down the steps towards her. Turning her head slightly, she whispered back to her friend conspiratorially.

"Oh, great 'n' honorable Ku Laozi...?"

"Uh... yeah, Donut?"

"I need you t'do a biiig favor f'r me."

Jeane's feet crunched through the snow.

"What?"

"Run ahead t'Bei Sifu's office. Y'know where it is, right?"

"Yeah."

"Get there as faaast as poss'ble. Tell Bei Sifu I'm asking for her heirloom. Get there bef're I do."

"What are you going to do, then?"

"...Run away."

"...Wait, what-!"

Ku didn't get an answer as Lin ducked and dodged away from her and the _dao_ Jeane had just swung at her.

"Just go get it!" Lin shouted, as she ran towards the walls of the courtyard, Jeane continuing after her. In a single smooth leap, Lin scaled the wall like a feather floating upwards, kicking off a wood column once to continue past the second floor, and landed on the snow covered shingle roofs.

Jeane focus was entirely on Lin now, as she glared upwards at her opponent, "A few Light Steps aren't going to save you!"

Jeane crouched down and kicked off in a much more explosive upward jump, leaving snow flying away from her in a blast radius.

Ku watched Jeane land next to Lin, and lashing out with her saber, while Lin swiveled away from the swing, and the successive ones that followed after, while running across the roofs, Jeane following.

"I better get going."

The roofs were Lin was, was on a side of Mount Heaven that was facing away from the direction of the blizzard, leaving the mass of the mountain to shield people from the brunt of the snow storm. Here, the gusts were still certainly powerful, but nonetheless not very useful for Lin as a method to help her escape Jeane who was still swinging a sword at her.

Of all the times Lin had to be beset by fair weather...

Lin leapt forward, narrowly flying under another horizontal swing from Jeane's saber. Rolling forward away from the blonde, Lin turned it into a forward somersault, with her feet roughly scraping off the ground, throwing a thick layer of snow back, so it slapped all over Jeane's body.

"Very funny." Jeane growled, wiping away the snow from her eyes.

"Sorry. The karmic retribu'ion kinda jus' happ'ned." Lin shrugged, before backing away from a rising slash.

The chase continued, Lin scampering across the roofs of the monastery, Jeane chasing, and everyone down below making noises of surprise and horror at the violent duel occurring above their heads.

Lin made a giant jump, from one roof, and dropping several feet down to land on the large roof of another hall below. Lin was much more familiar with this part of Mount Heaven.

"Donut! Down here!"

Lin turned her gaze downward to find Ku below. She was waving wildly and pointing to a lengthy wrapped bundle that had been cinched tight around her back with bits of cloth, Ku had to fight to keep the thing from scraping on the ground, as the thing was taller than she was.

"Ah, thanks, Ku-"

Jeane slammed down into the roof right behind her, sword raised above her head with both hands. Lin only had the chance to turn around and see the sword to come down on her. There was a dull sound of metal tearing through cloth and sinking through flesh, while Lin fell off the edge of the roof.

Ku's eyes widened, gasp hidden in her mouth as she watched Lin crash and roll across the snow laden ground. It quickly broke into a sigh, as her friend quickly sat up, shaking her head of dizziness and snow in her hair. After all, it wasn't the fall that killed martial artists, it's what they fell on (and whether it was pointy or not).

"Lin! Are you alright! I thought she cut you!" Ku called, while Lin slowly got to her feet.

"Y-Yeah... she kinda did..." Lin turned around to show Ku the long cut that went down just to the side of the chest of her shirt, marred with flecks of fresh blood. Lin winced as she fingered the torn material, "Didn't get very deep, though. Kinda more worried 'bout the shirt..."

Something caught Lin's senses, making her jerk her head back up to pay attention to Jeane, who she found leaping off the roof to keep after her. Lin quickly beckoned to Ku with a frantic hand.

"Ku! I rea'y-rea'y need th'-!"

Ku swung the wrapped parcel off her back and flung it at Lin with all the speed she could give to it, while Jeane was just about above her friend's head. Crossing several feet and a second, the long object slammed into Lin's open hands, which she then raised above her head just as Jeane's saber came down.

There was a harsh grating noise of metal on metal, before Lin threw Jeane off, leaving her to flip away land on the ground several feet behind her, while Lin turned around, swinging the object in her arms till it rested on her shoulder.

"Tch, finally out of tricks from your pretty little Wudang?" Jeane snorted, somewhat annoyed that Lin found the chance to arm herself.

Lin shrugged, "I wouldn' really call'em tricks, but I s'ppose it's true, hand to hand's only half of m'training. Y'know what you don't have, Jeane?"

"What?"

"Balance. Wudang's about "internal", y'know. F'r me, what's important about that is learning t'build _qi._"

Jeane rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. Chi? What the hell's that supposed to do? You don't honestly think you're going to start shooting laser beams out of your palms? Or is it that job of your little tool there? Or are you just retarded?"

Lin's lips curled up for just a second before it was lost under that obnoxious gentle look on her face, "Nuh, not really. I'm not gonna start shootin' lasers. But I've been learnin' 'nough about _qi_ that I can do this-"

With that, the most willowy girl of all present, grabbed one end of the wrapped bundle and flung it into the air between her and Jeane.

The cloth fell away and revealed six gold and blue spears swirling through the air. Five of them continued to remain suspended in the air, twirling lazily like leaves on an undercurrent, with no sign as to what was holding them up from above or below.

The sixth fell into Lin's open hand. Still, one could see the exquisite detailing on the weapon. The butt on the spear had a gold statue head of a Chinese dragon resting its chin on the top of the shaft, stubby arms wrapped around the sides, while its bulging eyes peered into the distance unflinchingly. Dropping from the neck, a detailed golden relief of the dragon's body, scales, legs, and all wrapped itself around the deep blue shaft of the spear, feeling as if the body were only embedded and asleep, ready to awake at any time. At the opposite end of the head, the dragon's spade like tail expanded and pointed out, turning into the spear head of Lin's weapon.

Lin twisted the spear once in a circle around her wrists, before holding it to the side, at her waist. She then exploded forward, bladed tip aimed at Jeane. Spear whipping around, the blonde found herself defending against an aggressive series of jabs and weak slices.

It was hard to believe, but Jeane found herself convinced Lin had somehow become _more_ agile. All the firm Tai Chi and Bagua and whatever the hell else she had, it had all been replaced by a furious mastery of these spears, a move from defensive to offensive.

Lin had spun about and jabbed low with her spear, towards Jeane's knees. Reacting, Jeane slammed her foot into the shaft of the spear, kicking it away with enough force that it carried Lin with it, spinning her around till her back was exposed.

Jeane moved to attack with this opportunity, only to find one of the spears that had been floating above suddenly dropped out of its circling pattern, diving straight down. Jeane only had time to back away, before the spade-like tail of the gold dragon planted itself into the ground, the head at the top looking imperviously at her. Not only that, Lin, off balance for a second, without even looking back, kicked out from under her, backwards. The bottom of her foot slammed into the spearhead of the the second dragon, sending it spinning towards Jeane. Her blocking it sent it ricocheting back up into the sky to rejoin its brethren, while Lin swiveled around and went back to attacking.

In a sudden move, Lin's hands loosened for an instant, so that she was gripping the spear at the very end. With the full length of the spear away from her, she brought its full weight down on Jeane. The blonde brought up the flat of her saber to stop it, but something went terribly wrong.

There was a waxing, grating sound that came to Jeane's ears, metal hitting metal, aluminum foil flapping in the air, and sharp ringing.

The shaft of the spear slammed down into her shoulder, and Jeane grunted from the pain, backing away as she clutched the injured part.

_What the hell? I was blocking that-_

Jeane looked at her saber, and choked. It was been completely destroyed. Warped out of shape, twisted and curved where the Lin's spear crushed the metal. More than one ring was missing from the spine of the blade, scattered along the snow.

For some reason, the idea that Lin now had an overwhelming advantage enraged her. Growling, she hurled away her unusable weapon.

Lin regarded her plainly, "So... uh... we can stop fightin', right?"

"Fuck you!"

And Jeane rushed forward at her, regardless, practically succumbing to a blind rage in the idea that Lin was beating her because of her stupid weapon.

Lin shifted, spreading her feet, as if preparing for something. As if on command, a spear dropped out of the air again, dropping into Jeane's path before she could stop herself. She slammed into the golden pole, which was stout enough for Jeane to visibly gasp at running into the roadblock head on, yet flexible enough in the same instant that it bent under Jeane's weight, only to spring back, sending swinging back into a second spear that drove itself into the ground behind her back, leaving her pinned between the two.

The remaining three spears fell down next, at steeper angles, tangling up Jeane's legs. Try as she could, Jeane found she couldn't shift or move the spears from their hold. It was like they were much longer rods, driven meters into the ground, and nothing Jeane could do could make them move.

Lin twirled her last spear in a flamboyant manner, bringing it to a halt behind her back with one hand, raising her foot so she could slap it with her opposite hand and bring herself into a pose, proclaiming, "Five dragons holding a mountain, one makes a river!"

Completely exhausted of all her options, Jeane could only give a flat, "What."

Lin blinked, before standing properly and explaining hesitantly, "U-uh, well, y'see, if I went all t'way through, I'd gotta stab you in t'heart... that'd be how I'd make a river."

"Fuck. Fine, you won. You happy?" Jeane spat.

Lin shrugged, "Well, no hard feelin-"

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!"

Donut and Ku Laozi recognized the voice for what it was, and to Jeane's mirth, started to run around like headless chickens in blind fear before genuflecting, head deeply bowed in prostration to Pai Laoshi, who stomped onto scene. Lin and Ku, who had been looking down the entire time, could not see his positively irate expression, but if anything, they could _feel_ his near-utter rage.

"I heard of students fighting, but the TOP STUDENTS BRAWLING! USING WEAPONS!" Pai could only thunder, and it was quite formidable, despite his advanced age.

"Pai Laoshi, I'll take responsibility this trespass against your goodwill." Lin quickly responded. Bei Sifu wasn't here, so there was no point explaining herself.

"Don't speak of inevitabilities! You most certainly will, using Bei's inheritance so casually, so flagrantly!" Pai frowned, "And don't think you can cover for the other two either, especially my student! Ku, don't you dare think you can sneak out of this either! You've embarrassed me, helping to draw out a fight!"

"Yes, Pai Laoshi! I won't!" Ku answered on reflex.

"Tch. Give me a minute to think of suitable disciplining for all three of you..."

Bei Sifu's later intervention only somewhat saved the day, and only because she conferred in secret with Pai. The whole issue of Jeane, between the two teachers, was still pretty touchy.

At the very least, Lin and Ku's punishment was mainly a show to keep standards at Mount Heaven. They didn't know what happened to Jeane either, but Lin hoped Bei Sifu wasn't being tough on her. It wouldn't really be fair, and she didn't really like the idea of her profiting from being in a conspiracy.

In the end, Lin and Ku found themselves in the middle of the night, the sky pitch black, and bits of snow continuing to fall out of the air and into the courtyard they were raking for no real reason. All they were told was that they were going to rake the courtyard till Pai Laoshi felt satisfied. Considering the horror stories of other forms of discipline, the fact that Lin and Ku only got off with freezing their butts off, while performing mind numbing tasks, and all that without even the presence of supervision, just the good word of Lin and Ku (granted, it's not like they were perennial liars or anything), the whole thing was incredibly merciful on Pai Laoshi's part.

Lin and Ku did their raking, of course. But they also passed the time talking, and taking quick breaks.

At the moment, Lin held her rake aloft with both arms, behind her head and on her shoulders, while Ku sat on some of the steps that lead from the circling hallway into the courtyard. The two of them watched the mountain tops in the distance. The lighting was just enough to let them do that.

"Y'know what I'm reminded of?" Lin asked.

"What?"

"Us 'n' rakes takes us back t'the rake fight, a few years 'go."

Ku blanched, "I thought we said we were going to forget about that."

"Sor'y, just kinda came t'me. We both watch'd that movie and it looked so sil'y..."

"Hmm..."

"Hmm..."

Lin dragged her rake through the snow once, before sighing.

"Y'really gonna go 'way this spring."

"Well, I want to see the world."

"But J'pan?"

"Why not?"

"But d'you even know 'ny Japanese? I mean sure, half t'time they _spell_ the same..."

"I've been practicing speaking off some books!"

"Really?"

Ku coughed into a hand, before saying something that sounded pretty Japanese to Lin. Lin rubbed her face, considering what she heard for a few seconds, before deciding.

"...I sup'ose that's convincin'. What's it mean, though?"

Ku stood up, wiping her nose rather proudly while she grinned, "I was asking for _cha siu bao_!"

"Oooh..."

That brought a smile to Lin's face for a while, before it dropped again.

"But it's still gonna be lonely here without you..."

"Sorry, Lin. But just because I leave doesn't mean I'm forgetting about this place!"

"Y'mean it?"

"Of course!"

Lin pouted, "Guess we on'y have these few months, though."

"Let's make the most of it, then."

"Hm. Let's go make snow angels, then."

Ku blinked, "What? I don't think we should be dragging out our break so long..."

"We can rake it over later. Bei Sifu and Pai Laoshi aren't here. Let's just make a few."

Lin fell on her back without waiting for an answer, waving her arms and legs in the building drifts. Ku raised her arms, but found no reason to complain about it. Making a small cartwheel for the hell of it, she landed next to her friend and left her mark in the snow for the while she had

* * *

**Name:** Da Lin

**Known Aliases:** "Donut"

**Weapon of Choice:** Wudang/internal Chinese Martial Arts, "Six Dragons Floating In The Spring Breeze" Spears

**Favorite Food: **Sweet Pastries

**Points of Interest: **Dazed Expression, Ku Fei's friend.

**Profession: **Martial Arts Student (Successor to the Wudang Sect at Tian Shan.)

* * *

A/N: The one thing I can't figure out is how to get her down from the mountain and into Negima, all that said. (Good lord, I wasn't even trying, but anything I write ends up being huge.) I should change the summary of this work, "For fun, and instructional purpose". I'm sure more than one of you guys realize how terrible some of the OC fics are in this section. By some, I mean, "near all".

By the way, should I do the Motsu-Shimichi short, or the Nekane short next? I suppose I'll put a poll up on my account for that, so make your stand via private message or vote.


	7. Nekane Springfield

**Nekane Springfield

* * *

**

_When we traded Nightmares:_

Nekane gave another strangled moan of pain. Her vision was wavering, either from her failing senses or the sheer agony that was wracking her body. Her brain felt like it was electrified from the number of neurons firing, telling her _it hurt._ Like she didn't know already. She could barely even think, but when she could, there was only one thought, and one name she pleaded.

"N...egi... Ne...gi..."

Her brother had done his best to protect her from the petrification magics. On the one hand, he had done admirably for a six year old child, saving her life from instantaneous "death". On the other hand, though, Nekane was now experiencing the most brutal and unintended torture one could have. She could feel her internal cavity transmuting into solid rock, her mass turning organic to inorganic. Her blood index dropped, her nerves were firing into dead ends, her intestines and fluid turned hard, centimeter by centimeter.

The attack hit her at her legs. By this point, the stone infection was already halfway up her stomach. By all means, with no diaphragm, being all unmoving stone, she should have died long ago from the inability to breath. But here she was, panting weakly, face drenched in feverish sweat and matted with her limp blonde hair. Because this petrification was magic, Nekane would not yet die, not until the petrification topped off at her head.

With the haze of pain about her, Nekane wasn't sure where she ended up. Her brother might have dragged her to the top of a low hill that overlooked the village where they had been staying, till the attack. She could hear the burning in the distance, and the smell of smoke reached her. Even with her paralyzed position, she could see a great pillar of smoke rising into the clear blue night sky, full of stars that did not care what was happening.

But Nekane cared. More importantly, she care as to what happened to her brother. Somebody dragged her to the top of the hill, but now disappeared. Was it Negi? Where did he go? Nekane wish she knew, but she couldn't do much more than desperately wish he was safe, while she died slowly.

"Ne... gi..."

If only she knew... if only she knew where he was. If only she weren't dying here...!

Then, with her thoughts to herself, she started to hear whistling. At first she thought it was the wind, but Nekane's addled mind started picking out the wavering notes of a whimsical voice. Her minded started filling in the lyrics for the song.

_Why lies He in such mean estate _

_Where ox and ass are feeding?_

_Good Christian, fear: for sinners here_

_The silent Word is pleading._

_Nails, spear shall pierce him through..._

"Who... who's... is... someone..." Nekane choked out.

The whistling started to get closer, and when it was nearly upon her, the song stopped. Nekane didn't have the energy to turn her head, so she just kept looking up to the stars. Eventually that vision was replaced by the "man" that stood above her. She didn't hear the footsteps of his arrival.

It was some androgynous, potentially beautiful creature, who was wearing a white tuxedo, revealed from the high collared cloak he had thrown back over his shoulders. "He", presumably "he" for the clothes, also had a top hat on, with shoulder length lavender hair spilling down from under it. As he looked down on her, Nekane could see his dead white skin, and that one of his eyes were concealed by some sort of golden and gem inset eye piece.

He twirled a gold headed cane he was carrying in one hand, before throwing it up lightly to catch it by the middle.

"What do we have, here? I was wondering who would have been so audacious as to... well, I suppose beckon my attention. But I presume the whole situation is more an accidental coincidence." He shrugged, saying all this in an soothing, genteel voice.

Nekane wasn't sure what he was saying, "Beckon...? Who...?"

"Well, you know. A great deal of birch being burnt under a harvest moon at ides, in the presence of a conscious human soul bound by a Cockatrice's stone. It's a very flashy way of calling my attention. Most humans don't seem very keen on it these days, since it's a rather grisly method and inconvenient to them, so I was curious when it was being used tonight... Oh yes, you're wondering who I am."

He took off his hat and leaned down to both bow and inspect her more closely.

"The title I use to present myself to humans, is the Black Rose Baron. And yes, I'm not what you would call 'human', but neither am I one of those smoldering pieces of meat you would know as 'demonic'. Now then, my ill lady, how may I be of service to you this evening?"

"S...ervi...ce...?" Nekane could only answer, confused.

The Baron turned about, arms raised to illustrate the emptiness of their location, "Well, there's certainly was no sorcerer here who intended to call me, nor would I avail myself to the demons who just so happened to find the right time of the year to start a ruckus. No, all that's left to appeal to is the wishes of a dying woman."

Nekane bit back a whimper of pain as she felt the stone rise up her body by a few more centimeters.

"Save... me..."

The Baron shrugged at the request, "Naturally, that's the request anyone would make, "Ah, I'm dying, can this genie make things right?" But before you throw yourself at the idea of surviving this thing, let me posit the advantages of actually succumbing to your affliction."

He squatted, resting on his toes, so he could get closer to Nekane.

"Cockatrice's stone can be broken by me like how a root breaks hard earth. But, as I am the root, and you are the earth, that means your body will be my plaything. And, since I am not human, you're probably aware that otherworldly gentlemen like myself tend to use our toys very hard."

The Baron tapped the stone portion of Nekane's body with his cane to illustrate the next part of his speech,

"Petrification is a form of death, but coincidentally, one that can be reversed, given time. I'd suspect fifty years, maybe, till your civilization figures it all out. Maybe more, maybe less. But no doubt, one day, someone will come to restore your position, so you shouldn't worry, too much. Think of it as an advanced sleep. So if you ask whether you want to be saved, you should rather consider whether you want to be a tool, or whether you'd like to sleep for a while. It's as simple as wishing for me to make the pain cease as you begin slumber. Consider wisely, human, what exactly lies beyond the choices in front of you."

Perhaps Nekane did try to think. But no matter what, the idea of "sleeping"... no, it was still just dying. Then maybe being reborn in a matter of decades to a world she wouldn't recognize.

And her brother... she couldn't possibly...

"N-No...! Save... Save me...! I want to... I have to live... now...!" Nekane almost frantically whispered back. The Baron's grinned widely, pearl white teeth shining as he found the whole situation very funny.

"Oh? What dream binds you so? What makes you want to live a slave than doze away in an oblivious bliss..." He purred. He had not answered a wish of a dying human in a very long time, if he ever had. He could only find faults in the human intellect. Acceptance of death felt like cowardly defeatism. Denial felt like delusional arrogance. What would her excuse be? Humans and their "explanations" for everything... sometimes they could be so fun...

Nekane gasped as the stone started reaching for the bottom of her lungs and heart, and struggled to speak, "M... My... brother... Negi... Negi... I have... to find... Negi... where... where did he go... Negi..."

The Black Rose Baron chuckled. Plunging the end of his cane into the wet dirt beside him, he used his free hands to grab Nekane underneath her arms and haul her up with him as he stood. He ignored the loud groans of pain as she was suddenly man handled. The gentlemanly creature swung her around like a toy, laughing to himself with so much joy an amusement.

"Very well, my ill lady, dear doll. Enjoy those little dreams you wish you keep thinking will keep your spirit well and alive. Keep dreaming them while I ask things of you, oh the fun I'll have making you do things for me. I have not had a good maid in a good century. We fair folk are so temperamental about work, always demanding favors from each other. But humans are so easy to play around with. Keep dreaming while I make you sit, bark, lie, roll over, play dead..."

He stopped spinning the dying woman about in circles, and held their faces close. Nekane's blurry and dazed vision, spinning and swarming, could only see that ghastly skin, caked in lavender and pink make up, framing those grinning white teeth.

"Yes, keep dreaming, as we kiss..."

With that, The Black Rose Baron brought its lips to her chilly own, forcing her mouth open. At first she thought she was feeling his rough, bark-like tongue writhing about her mouth, but then she realized it was continuing, something was continuing down her throat, creeping inside her body, burrowing in and taking her over...

Nekane couldn't do anything except take it all. She couldn't move, she couldn't breath, and she couldn't even scream because her mouth was occupied and her throat was filled.

* * *

_Four Years Later:_

A particularly rough bump in the bus' journey bounced Nekane up in her seat, rousing her from her sleep. The vehicle she was in was uncomfortable and rickety wood paneled, an archaic and alleged coach that seems to still be used only because someone figured to save their money and not afford something reasonable.

Then again, if the number of passengers in the bus was how things normally was, perhaps it was a sensible point. That is to say, at the moment, aside from the bus driver (a generally unpleasant individual by the name of Sargent), the only real fare for the ride was Nekane Springfield herself, who was sitting in one of the seats half way up the bus.

Groaning at her waking, Nekane massaged her shoulders, trying to work out kinks and soreness she gained from her impromptu sleep. As the side of her head had been pressed against the scratched glass windows, she also had to go out of her way to reset the black petaled flower she had tucked into her hair, resting above her left ear. Now reasonably awake, she called to her driver.

"Um, mister?"

"Ahwh, Y'er awake aren'tcha, stranger?" Sargent grumbled from the front.

"Yes, I am. How much further till we arrive at the stop?"

"Alhmosht there. Ah'll drwop ye at the town square of Ihnsmuth."

Nekane looked out the window and could see herself at the top of a valley, which gently descended into the town that was nestled between the hills, and built over top the reclaimed land that was once the swamps at the mouth of the Manuxet river.

Not that what had replaced it now was any better. A decaying settlement covered in fog and smoke, the grasslands on the outskirts Nekane was passing through being nothing more than gray and withered patches amongst hard dirt and moldy cottages. As she passed through the gates, she turned behind and noticed men immediately shutting the heavy portal, barring and chaining it shut.

"Why lock the gates, driver?" Nekane asked.

"Keehps out whand'rers lookin' fer wohrk. We don't wahnt no fulks like dat interfering with our affaihrs."

The bus broke into the town proper, which lacked all forms of life as far as Nekane could see. Empty streets, and what houses whos roofs were not collapsed had windows boarded up. There weren't any cars, either, save some broken and rusted wrecks. Truly a ghost town.

"Hm. Is the bus from Arkham always this empty?"

"Aye, and we prehfers it dat way. Nut many comes to Ihnsmuth."

"But what about trade? Surely you need business. You're a fishing port, after all."

"Ihnsmuth has meahns t'look afhter her ouwn." Sargent said with a sense of irritated finality, as the bus rounded a final corner and Nekane started seeing the town's strange people while the bus circled around the square and came to a stop in front of a grimy looking building that had the name "Gilman"in large letters attached to the front side. There was a chance it was actually an inn.

"Dhis is it, stranhger, end of the line."

"Thank you for driving me here, Mister Sargent." Nekane somehow managed to say, smiling pleasantly all the while. Standing from her seat, Nekane brushed her flowing black dress with her hands, trying to wipe away any dust she might have gotten. Reaching above, Nekane pulled a suitcase from the luggage shelf above her, held it politely with both hands in front of her. With that, she stepped off the bus and into Innsmouth, Massachusetts.

Even though it was mid-afternoon, the sky was still already so dark with polluted smoke from the nearby industrial zone, especially its gold refinery, that the gas lamps had been turned on, leaving the city center in some sort of perpetual artificial twilight.

All about her, she could see the citizens, with their queer looks. Half of them the scared scrawny normal folks, while the other half were... Them. The bulging, fattish citizens with a noticeable gait and slough. Their crusted dry skin that seemed almost scaly, while they passed Nekane by with their distrusting and unblinking gazes from their balding and oddly narrow and flattened heads.

For Nekane, though, she was most cognizant of the smell of the place. Every place had a particular smell that told Nekane much about everything. Some smells were more otherworldly than others, which said just as much. Much like the time Nekane visited Doolin in Ireland.

Like Doolin, there was an otherworldly smell in Innsmouth. It was a strong smell of coral, but not of the nice kind. Doolin had been more neutral, it had the smell of spice, but had been very neutral. If you plugged your nose, you could ignore it if you wanted. The smell of coral and sea salt in Innsmouth was overpowering to Nekane. It was an ominous scent that continued to roll inwards with the waves

Therefore, Innsmouth was a shipwreck that had been eaten by the sea, and now lived as a corrupted skeleton.

_Be careful, poppet puppet. Here lives naught but tadpoles and leeches, who eat at lotus roots and the undersides of water lilies. It will begin with tonight's rising moon, whether you are prepared or not._

So Nekane decided to preempt. She had been tempted to inspect the unusual Gilman building that might have been an Inn, but instead, she turned around on her soft leather shoes and talked with the bus driver Sargent.

"Mister Sargent?"

"Whut isth it nouw?" He grumbled. Obviously the idea that he had to continue associating with this... outsider, was not one he relished. Nekane still tilted her head and asked cheerfully.

"I was wondering, with how many passengers you get, do you remember a particular one?"

"I doun't pays muuch attentshion to who ah drive to touhwn." He answered dismissively.

"Really? Well, perhaps you recall a passing traveler like me? His name was Jack Walters. He was traveling from Newburyport to Arkham, and I didn't see him arrive, so then when I heard that Innsmouth was between, I thought that maybe-"

"Down't know who yhou talkin' abouht, stranger." Sargent cut her off, knocking Nekane out of her blathering reverie.

She blinked once before giving a quiet laugh and holding a palm to her face, "Oh, silly me, I just started babbling, did I? I'm sorry! Well, I guess I'll just ask around if anyone's seen Jack, then."

Leaving Sargent, the traveling woman did exactly that, walking about the town square and asking several locals if they have seen or known the whereabouts of her Jack Walters. She made a point of asking the funny looking citizens pointedly, though she never got any real answer. They all continued to give her distrusting stares and quickly waved off her presence.

"Craan't halp you."

"Caan't rightly saeys I know heem..."

A nearby police constable, just as slouching and unblinking as the others, was particularly memorable for how particularly unhelpful he was to Nekane, as he snorted at her report of a missing person.

"Us kheepersh of Law'rn'Order got moar importhant things to do than worry 'bout the businessth of outshiders! Now get movin' before I boook you for obsstructing thraffic!"

"O-Oh, sorry. I didn't know today was a busy day!" Nekane apologized as she backed away from his waving truncheon and quickly walked off the empty street and onto the sidewalks.

Eventually, Nekane started talking with store clerks. Actually, she just talked to one, since the variety store and the drug store would have seemed on the verge of eviction in any other city, and the wholesale fish dealer... well, the less said, the better.

Nekane found herself speaking with Brian Burnham, the youngish and sole cashier and clerk of the National One Grocery Store. He was seventeen years old, and absolutely abhorred having to work in a dismal location like Innsmouth, but couldn't afford to give up the salary he had. So he sat and bore it with a great amount of patience.

His patience was finally rewarded when Nekane entered his store. To see a woman that wasn't slouching or slurring, and such a beauty at that, it hit him like a ton of bricks. He almost tripped out of his chair. So what if she were a few years older? Or that perhaps her tendency to talk too much? What was that supposed to detract, after sitting here for nearly a year with this sort of company? He could listen to her forever. He felt himself almost mesmerized by the scent of the flower tucked aside her head...

Nekane complimented Mr. Burnham for owning one of the few stores that actually had electricity in this backwards town that seemed to have forgotten they were already in the 21st Century. That seemed to have been enough to loosen Brian's tongue about anything and everything about Innsmouth, since he saw this as his one chance impress the traveling lady, even if it was only with knowledge of this hellhole.

Brian described with great detail the layout of the the town, and Nekane enthusiastically pleaded for him to draw her out a map, that she could see the town herself. Of course, he warned against crossing into the industrial zone on the other side of the river. There was the headquarters of the strange cult that seemed to have a hand in all the local affairs of Innsmouth, as well as the gold refinery that was inherited business of a family that seemed to be be involved with the cult.

It was at that point the conversation turned to newcomers who weren't aware of this advice of common sense.

"Like that odd guy last week. He said he was into architecture, and genealogy and stuff like that, and spent a lot of time around the Order building and the refinery. I told him, "No, it's a bad idea", but-"

"Was his name Jack Walters?"

"...You know him!" Brian asked, though it was more a confirmation for his incredulity.

"He wears a beard, right? Brown hair? He's such an enthusiast for architecture...!" Nekane sighed.

"Wait, wait, how do you know this guy? Is he why you're here?"

"Well, yes actually. You see... he's, um... well..." Nekane blushed momentarily, before holding a hand to her cheek like a swooning child, "He's my fiancé!"

Brian Burnham was sure somewhere in the back of his mind, he could see an image of himself gagging and dying at that announcement.

"Gah... well, I mean... you're looking for him?"

"Well, yes. He was due to meet me at Arkham from Newburyport, but he didn't seem to arrive last week, so I asked around. Then I heard of this town, and how it'd be cheaper to take two rides, from Newbury' to here, and then to Arkham, plus if it's old, I'm sure Jack would have been unable to resist visiting, so I'm sure he must be still here. He tends to get carried away with these sorts of things. So I decided to come down and see if I could find him, but so far-"

"Hold on, lady!" Brian interrupted, "Look, I know you want to find your... fiancé... but there's no way you can find him if he's missing in Innsmouth. Besides, I told you, he was messing around with stuff that wasn't his business, even when I told him that sort of stuff _really_ gets people into trouble here! You should get out of here right now, now matter how, even if you have to walk."

"B-But I have to at least try and look for Jack!" Nekane pouted, "I can at least look around the town, right? You drew me a map, after all."

"Ugh, I don't know. Just stay on this side of the river, alright? The next bus won't be till later tonight, anyways..."

"Don't worry, I'm can take care of myself." Nekane smiled, which really didn't do anything to help convince him otherwise.

"Uh... Huh."

"Can I leave my suitcase here for a while, while I go take a look around your town? Thanks a lot, Mr. Burnham! It's so nice I could talk to at least one person here who doesn't smell like coral!"

That was the last thing Nekanely gleefully called back before her head sunk back out the door. Brian sighed, absorbed the words, and came up with one response to the suitcase that was left behind in his safekeeping.

"...Coral?"

* * *

Nekane did the polite and respectable thing and listened to Brian's suggestion to not get any more unwanted attention by looking around the Order building or the family refinery like her fiancé did.

considered her walk about to be uneventful, boring, and highly productive, given what she had set out to do.

Jack Walters could wait just the slightest bit, but she had to prepare for the inevitable. The plan was a little shoddy, but it was the best she could come up with in the time she had to prepare. Her "looking around town" included a very frenzied memorization of street names and locations, and during her walks on the far end of the town, more towards Arkham, her scattering of seeds along the streets. She grabbed fistfuls of them from pockets hidden in the folds of her dress and slowly dropped them from between her fingers, silently sowing them onto the cold hard ground.

Eventually, the darkness began to fall over the silent town, and Nekane felt it best to return back to the Town Square. There was a restaurant that suited her dinner needs, as much of a wreck as it was like any other building in Innsmouth. It had the decency to at least sell canned and packed food over the counter, with which Nekane made due with a good helping of soupy pasta, canned sardines, Spam, and very small cocktail sausages. Only the Sardines and the Spam had any flavor, but Nekane figured there was no point expecting anything was going to be good in this place, so she might as well make an effort to be well fed.

After recollecting her suitcase from the National One grocery store, she returned to the bus that had been sitting in front of the Gilman building. She gave a cry of surprise as she found the bus driver hunched over the open hood of the engine, twisting away at the innards with a monkey wrench.

"Mister Sargent, is there something wrong with the bus?"

"Haytes to say it, but my busth isth having... engyne truobles. There's nut goings to be any tranfsit from Insthmuth to Arkhem tonight." Sargent answered.

"No transit? That's terrible. How am I going to leave this place, then?" Nekane sighed with a tone that indicated sadness.

"Thut's none of my problums, outshider. You'd bether stay the night at here Gilman House, and see if yous can leavthe tomorrow. Maybes you cahn ask Gilman to lower the price for you."

"Well, it can't be helped. Hope the bus doesn't trouble you too much, Mister Sargent. Thanks for the advice."

Nekane took her first steps into inn, that boringly named Gilman House. Walking through the dusty, moth eaten hallway, she overheard two men talking at the hotel reception. One of the men seemed to be the police officer she met earlier in the day. The other was behind the reception counter. Probably the Gilman fellow that ran his establishment. She stopped in the shadows, observing.

"...I don't harve muucch time for talkin', Charlie. I got instrucshuns from ther Order to make schertin the outshider don't leave tonight."

"You mean the straange girl Sargent brought into towwn a few hours baack?" Charlie Gilman asked. He certainly was more fluent than his other bulgy, staring kind, but still had a strange tone to his voice.

"Yearh, that uppity, yappy one." The constable grumbled, "She been asking arrroungd about the other one we caugrht. We carnt's let anyonesh know. She ain't learving here, we'll make suure."

"Ayyye. I'll reckon shee'll be askin' here for lodgings..."

The police officer made to leave. He entered the hallway he noticed the Nekane girl was just entering from the outside. As they met, she cheerfully called out, blissfully oblivious.

"Good evening, officer!"

"Sshtop bothering me, strraanger."

Ignoring the bristled line, Nekane walked into the foyer and met the owner of the Gilman establishment, introducing herself.

"Hello!"

"Ayye." Charlie Gilman said back.

"I'm Nekane Springfield. I'm just passing through, and would like to spend the night here."

"Yoou don't sayy. Charlie. Charrlie Gilman. I run this heere hotel of an eveniinng."

"Do you have any free rooms? I'm sorry, it's a very spur of the moment thing, but the bus outside broke down, so I can't go back home to Arkham, you see, and I don't know anywhere else I could stay tonight so-"

"We have plenty on the top floorr. Nice views over towwn, I'm told."

"That's wonderful!" Nekane smiled brightly.

"If you'd just fallow me, ma'am, I'll show you to yourr lodgings..."

Nekane followed Charlie Gilman as he made his way around the reception counter and up the stairs. An unlocked door, and one grubby, crust stained hallway later, Nekane was being led into room Four-Two-Eight.

"You'rre lookin' kinda pallid, miss."

"Really? I wouldn't know..." Nekane muttered, feeling her forehead with her head, like it would tell her something."

"Ayye, your journeys must have beeen a strrain. You'rre needing to have yourself some rrest. Sleep well... and keeep down the racket! Us in Innssmouth are... quiet folk."

"I will, I promise."

Gilman left at that, laughing under his breath as he lumbered away like so many others of his coral smelling brethren. Nekane closed the door, and let her smile drop as she began to drink in the situation.

Looking around the room, there wasn't much to see. There was no electric light or plumbing. The whole room truly was just four walls and some furniture. The weak, flickering lighting came from a trio of fat yellow candles that were lit and standing atop some recycled glass bottles that were sitting on the ground. The bed was just the wood frame and a hard mattress thrown atop it. In the corner was a cracked vanity mirror standing atop a table, with an empty wash basin as companion. The room was connected to the next room 427, by an adjoining door that opened into hers. Nekane moved to inspect it, and found mostly the same, with more or less the same grungy rotting, if only in different places than her own room. Checking 427's archaic door, she found it lacked today's modern locking system, but at least had a door bolt that jammed itself into a nock in the side to keep the door from moving in a show of security. Nekane locked the door, regardless.

When she returned to her room, she inspected her own door, and found that her door lacked such a lock. There were remains of a screwed in contraption that indicated there should have been a bolt like any other door, but it had been removed recently. Nekane hummed, shrugged, and walked towards the window, where she could feel the chill breeze and the scent of coral through the window cracks. Adjusting the flower a little in her hair, she looked at the full moon in the sky, half covered by clouds.

"At least there will be some light tonight..." Nekane murmured to herself. She wanted to do more, but it looked like the next move would be theirs. She just hoped she could finish this matter quickly enough. The smell was getting to her.

Stretching and yawning, Nekane crawled onto the bed without even taking her shoes off. Using her arms as a pillow, given the sorry state of her sleeping utilities, she curled up, personally curious as to how well she could sleep.

* * *

At midnight, a group of ten men had gathered at the lobby of the Gilman House. Each and everyone were the distasteful, scaly, flabby strange looking, strange smelling that Nekane had quietly abhorred during her visit. Each and everyone one of them were armed with guns, a mix and match of archaic and modern firearms that seemed to have been collected from under their beds and closets after blowing off the dust.

"Gilman, where have you put the outsideerr?" One of them growled.

"Top of the hoouse, room Four-Two-Eight." Gilman candidly answered, easily handing over the master keys to the hotel, doing his little bit to assist in this lynching.

"Come on, let's have at her!" The first Innsmouthian called back to his group, sending them pacing up the creaking stairs and silently down the hallway of the fourth floor. Five men scattered about the hallway, making sure the passage was absolutely clear of any extra unwanted snoopers, while the other five crowded around the entrance to Nekane's room.

"Yous reckon sthe's in theere?"

"Not a dourbt. I can hear her shfufflin' inside. Door's not locked, either, stupid..."

With that, the citizen reached for the doorknob, opening the door.

That is to say, the door opened. Rather, the door burst open. From the inside.

The man who was most in front of the door gave one small noise of surprise before dying instantly as several broken pieces of door took him across the chest, while several sharpened roots and curving thorns the size of knives lashed wildly and raked whatever was left untouched.

The other men scrambled away, crawling on the ground, backing to a safe distance, while everyone else present turned around to see what was responsible for turning one of their own into a bloody fillet.

As the dead man was dumped onto the ground, the thorns and vines receded towards a figure framed by the flickering of candles. Walking forward, the woman with flowing blonde hair, a black dress, and a black flower in her hair, stepped over the corpse. Coming out of her sleeves and under the hem of her dress, curtains flowering vines and ivy writhed slightly, quite healthy and living, wreathing and draping the ground with every step.

Nekane Springfield fixed the flower in her hair, which bloomed a little more, and then looked around her, coolly and clearly regarding at all the Innsmouth citizens surrounding her on both sides of the hall. Their expressions showed they were more than shocked that their little filly was not a helpless, cotton headed idiot that they heard about earlier in the day.

"I know how this will go, but I'll make the offer, anyways. If any of you gentlemen are willing to answer a few questions, then I'm hoping we can avoid a fight-"

"Kill herrr! She's not huurman!" One of them cut in, and guns started rising to take a bead on her. Nekane tried not to say much at the irony of the line.

The one most immediate to her right drew an old Schofield revolver, while Nekane raised her right hand, a rapidly budding flower growing out of her sleeve and into her hand. With a puff of breath, the flower exploded into petals and pollen, much of it slapping into the man's face, where upon the grubby man screamed and choked and collapsing to the ground, his face breaking up into welts and hives, while his throat tightened with a tailor made case of asthma just for him.

A good chunk of men was on her left, making her turn her attention. Their array of firearms turned up, and Nekane responded by throwing more seeds onto the ground. Instantly, strange and powerful magics turned the seeds to bloom and then set root, and suddenly the hall between Nekane and five men was blocked up by heavy plant life. Nekane could hear the dull sounds of gunfire from the other side, but the thick wood wouldn't give from the lead.

"Quiick! Circle arrround to the othar side!" And heavy running echoed, disappearing.

That left three more men still on Nekane's right to handle. All who raised their guns. Nekane threw out her loosely sleeved arm. Vines and thorns instantly grew and hardened, turning into solid wood that thrust itself from her small limb in an array sharp branches. The Innsmouth Citizens opened fire, one of them even owning an Norinco 56 clone of the AK-47, but for all the bullets sprayed and all the wood that splintered and was blown off, it still left a sharp funnel of ends that protected Nekane from their guns long enough that the points speared them through, picking them up and carrying them, screaming in pain until they were crushed against the far wall.

Nekane stared at her handiwork dispassionately for a second, before dropping her arm, the wood that grew from her bare skin breaking off and leaving her whole flesh. Nekane quickly left, leaving the sandwich of wood where it was, blood and gore dripping out from between the spikes.

The unnatural woman stalked the corridor as best she could, trying to find the remaining bulk of the lynch squad sent after her. Her knowledge of the lay out of the building was spotty at best, but she was sure that the corridor looped around and exited into the foyer on both ends, meaning the men would have work their way back up the original set of stairs they entered through to meet her again.

Turning a corner, Nekane's stealth suddenly failed her as she found her face to face with two gaping dark muzzles of a double barreled shotgun.

"DIE!"

With that, Innsmouth Citizen fired both barrels in quick succession. Nekane's head snapped back in a spray of sparks and smoking powder, sending her tumbling head over heels, until she landed on her stomach.

The man who killed Nekane breathed heavily for several seconds, glaring hard at the body, while the others slowly caught up to him with a measured pace.

"Ish she dead?" One of them asked.

"Waat do you think! Sher's got no faace!" The man snarled and laughed, sauntering over to Nekane's body.

Then a vine punctured his windpipe. The large bladed thorns all sides came right after to tear away at muscle and spine on either side of the puncture, eventually tearing the head off and sending it flying back to the others, who gave hoarse shocks of fear.

Nekane stood up before the headless man who toppled onto his back. Her face smoked, that is, what was her face. But there was no human element left, a thick layer of bark grown in its place, thick enough that all the scatter shot was merely wedged in the wood.

"Monsterrr...! What are youu!"

Nekane reached her hands up, and pulled at the top of the bark, breaking it off to show the newly replaced skin underneath. She stared at the with piercing blue eyes.

"You really must stop saying that. Are you any more human? I'll keep my skin at least. Go shed yours as you take to the sea, Deep Ones."

"Khilll her!"

Nekane sighed and shook her head at their one continued and pitiful attempts to spray lead.

* * *

Charlie returned from his back office, holding a hatchet that was stained with dried blood. He wanted to believe he was over thinking things, but everything he heard came off to him more and more wrong. He was curious with the firing of guns, then alarmed when the mob came back downstairs from another set of stairs to head up the ones the had originally come up. Then more gunfire, much more violent gunfire, and then a silence.

Nobody was coming back down. The hotel keeper wanted to imagine he was imagining things. There were ten men with guns, and one girl who didn't seem to be able to keep a thought in her head without spilling it out of her mouth, and now...

Gilman shook his head. No, it's just a girl. There's no way-

There was a sound of the door opening, and someone descending. Charlie snorted at the distorted shadow that came down.

"Took you loong enough. Was one girl that much trrouble... did she run too much or what-"

Charlie choked up when Nekane gently came down the steps, and set an imperious gaze on the man down below.

"Hello, Mister Gilman. I'd like to check out, if you please. For your information, I believe it was your friends that ran from me."

"You... you...!"

Gilman didn't say anything after, and simply charged at her, his hatchet raised to attack the girl who walked off the stairs towards him.

Nekane waved her fist, and seedlings slapped against his body, before growing rapidly, taking root in the ground and wrapping across his body in a thick net of plant life. His arm became trapped in mid swing, and struggled futilely, while Nekane walked up to him.

"Now why did you have to be rude like that, Mister Gilman. I was just leaving. Imagine how much more useful you'd be to your precious Order if you remained alive to report things didn't go wrong? In fact, you can even tell them where I'm going, if you answer one of my simple questions."

"You meean, where your friieend is, right?" Charlie snorted, predicting.

"That's right. Jack Walters. He hasn't been missing very long, so I doubt you and your kind have decided to take him somewhere out to sea to sacrifice him. So then, where have you put my wayward Architectural Enthusiast?"

Gilman didn't say anything at first, until he felt the plants tighten.

"I believe all you Deep Ones enjoy the idea of living forever, but if you are killed, you won't enjoy your old age. I've learned many interesting ways by which plant life can slowly kill a creature. I promise, if you keep holding back, you won't enjoy your old age, and you'll spend every final moment, regretting it."

Charlie shivered as he felt vines creep under his clothes, vying to break his skin, held back by but an invisible and unspoken word to wait until otherwise. Nekane continued to just stare at him.

"Fine... I'll teell you... the other stranger's being held in the cells at the police statioon." Gilman finally admitted.

"Where is it?"

"It's at the old town square of Innsssmouth."

Nekane smiled at that, and it was difficult to tell whether she was being genuine about it or not. Clasping her hands together, she exclaimed.

"See? That wasn't so hard, Mister Gilman! Now you can live and tell the Order to send more people to kill this monster. Try and not kill me from behind. It'll end the same as trying to kill me right now."

Leaning forward slightly, Nekane puckered up and kissed Gilman on his pasty cheek. The vines died and crumbled away from Gilman then, leaving him free to move around, while Nekane walked past, heading for the exit.

Charlie Gilman, like many of his kind, could not be particularly called intelligent. Thus, the moment he was free, he waited for all of a few seconds for Nekane to make enough distance for her head to be in the range of Gilman's hatchet, never mind what she said.

The moment Gilman raised his weapon again, he felt something sharp pierce his cheek where Nekane has kissed him. The pain worsened, and Gilman shrieked and dropped his hatchet, blinding clawing at his face, to feel bramble and thorns growing across his head, all sprouting from his cheek. Root broke through his cheek and into the inside of his mouth, and leaves covered his eyes, and the pain worsened and worsened.

Nekane didn't even look back as she shut the door behind herself at the main entrance, ignoring the screams of Gilman as he collapsed to the ground, his head being consumed by eager weeds.

* * *

Jack Walters had been enjoying a troubled sleep on his moldy cot in the cell of this "police station" in this mad house of a town. When he took his assignment, he hadn't taken his superiors seriously enough about the... unique nature of this place.

And now he stuck here, waiting until he'd probably be dragged somewhere and gutted alive by these crazies that acted like they were Polynesian tribes out some bad pulp fiction.

Outside, he could hear one of the police constables patrolling about. Earlier in the night there were harsh whispers and conversations, information being passed around, of which fragments Jack gleaned to the best of his ability. Somehow, a new traveler had arrived in town, and was of sudden and deep interest to the locals, who were now scouring the town, after being unable to find her at the inn.

Jack rubbed his beard in his sleep, groaned, and hoped whoever it was had gotten away. Before he could think anymore, the sound of the the constable outside choking and collapsing roused him. Something was definitely off.

Then the back door to the basement he was in opened, admitting someone. Jack stumbled sleepily to the bars, trying to look to the side as best he could.

"Hello...? Is anybody there?"

"Yes. Me."

And Jack Walters found himself facing some strange girl who stared back at him. Was this the traveler? Who was she? What did she want from him?

"Are you Mr. Jack Walters? I don't have time for small talk. Tell me fast, before more people come."

"W-Well, yes. Who are you?"

"The FBI sent me to find you, after your investigation fell through. I'm getting you out of here."

"Just you!"

"Just me. But then again, I'm not like most people." Nekane shrugged, "Shall we go?"

"Wait!" Jack jumped to the bars, "We need to get something important, first! It's locked up in the safe upstairs."

"What?" Nekane asked, somewhat displeased.

"My investigation didn't fall through," Jack explained, "I was investigating the Marsh Refinery, and found real evidence! They took it from me, but it's still up there."

"I see." Nekane hummed, before sighing, "At least it's something worthwhile. I was afraid you were going to ask me to find your girlfriend's locket or something."

"Hey, I'm not stupid."

"Right. Stay there, then. I'll be right back, then I'll get you out of here."

Nekane walked upstairs, ignoring Jacks hissed warnings to hold on, there were armed men past this point. Five minutes later, there were sounds of heavy objects dropping to the ground, and Nekane returning with a folder of documents. Walking up to Walters' cell, she pressed her palm against the open keyhole, making it shudder and burst apart in a tangle of roots.

"Uh... nice trick." Was all Jack could say as Nekane pulled the cell doors open.

"Don't mention it." She answered, before waving the manila folder at him, "Is this it?"

Jack took the documents and fanned through them quickly, before nodding. "This is it."

"Then let's go."

"But where? They must be looking for us everywhere!"

Nekane didn't answer that immediately, deciding to leave the police station as soon as possible, to which Jack internally agreed perhaps they should get some immediate priorities done first.

* * *

Outside, with the full moon making everything glow with light, Nekane and Jack sneaked about the shadows between buildings, crossing the river, and listening carefully for where the growing mob of Innsmouth Citizens were seeking them out.

"So now what?" Jack asked again.

"Well, I presume everybody's thinking we're escaping to Arkham on foot. I'm going to give them a bit of a feint. If all goes well, we can just walk to safety."

"You're enjoying being vague about this..."

"It makes things more exciting, I guess." Nekane smiled for a second, before concentrating. Then she snapped her fingers.

All across the town in the direction of Arkham, seeds that had been scattered along the ground began to grow at a violent rate, taking root and blooming into small bundles of flowers, each black like the night. Stuffed to the brim with magic, they shuddered for a second, before the batches everywhere exploded loudly, sending plumes of smoke in the air.

Elsewhere, Nekane shoved the both of them back deeper into the shadows of an alleyway when they heard the sounds of a mob.

"I heaars bombs goin' off towards Arkham!"

"The beaast and the sacrifiice are getting away!"

"Come on! We can cut 'em off! The gates locked over theere!"

Several more ran away from where the two had hidden. As they emerged, Jack frowned, "So... we're not going to Arkham."

"No. We're going in the opposite direction, to Rowley. If all goes well, nobody will even be there to look for us."

"Rowley..." Jack thought for a second as he followed Nekane back towards the river. "...You mean, the abandoned train station?"

"Yes. More importantly, we can follow the rails out of here. The best thing is that it takes us away from the sea, and that's much safer."

"What's in the sea?"

"Well... some things are easier to not explain. Just trust me. Nothing's good in the Innsmouth waters."

* * *

Several weeks later, Jack Walters was safely somewhere far, far away from Innsmouth, along with the evidence the FBI wanted. He didn't know what he was recording for irrefutable proof, but Nekane knew, and the people Nekane had worked with knew.

This was why she was returning to Innsmouth. Not alone, though, and not by bus.

Nekane waved in her seat in the back as the four wheel drive military Humvee navigated the dirt road to Innsmouth, just one in a large convoy as the US joint military and navy were well into their siege and subduing of the "violently unstable" Innsmouth population.

"Would like like any more scotch, Miss Springfield?"

The question knocked Nekane out of her daze as she looked out of the reinforced windows, and turned to the man sitting in front of her. He wasn't any soldier, for sure. Rather, he was dressed in a smart black suit, and though the wrinkles on his face showed he wasn't getting any younger, he certainly wasn't getting any dumber either. Nekane respected him at a distance, for that.

"No, no. Thank you, Mister Mackey. It's a little too odd for me to keep receiving these little favors for one single job well done. Normally I imagine your government being... well... callous."

"Only for those who deserve it, Miss Springfield, and I, at least, wouldn't consider it wise to make it difficult for a woman of your... talent."

Both of them smiled painfully at the euphemism that seemed on the verge of being an insult.

"Regardless, thanks to Agent Walters investigation, and your assistance, we could finally ascertain proof that the Order of Dagon and their hybridized fanatics had taken ahold of this location again. I do hate having to send troops here every time this happens, but I guess some things are just going to be constant."

"Just as well. It's better to weed Deep Ones out than hope they don't come back." Nekane shrugged.

Mackey reached for a briefcase that had been sitting beside his seat. Setting it on his lap, he opened it up, and started passing papers over to her.

"As promised from our usual deal, we've wired a hundred thousand US dollars to the bank account you've specified. Also, like you've asked specifically, we're providing you a copy of the dossiers and information collected by the American government on the special mercenary group named "Ala Rubra..."

Nekane was particularly eager to grab that last batch. She had to fight herself to keep from snatching the documents from Mackey's hands.

Leafing through the documents, Nekane momentarily stopped at a photo of her cousin.

"Nagi..."

And a part of Nekane wondered deeply and painfully as to where Negi had gone. She never stopped looking. That is to say, she was always looking. Coming to Innsmouth was all just to find leads on the Ala Rubra, who in turn, could possibly provide clues to where her "brother" had gone.

Four whole years. Negi would be ten by now, and Nekane still had no clue where in this wide world her only family left had gone. Part of her wondered what Negi would think of her now, and what she was. Would he hate her? Or fear her? Or just not recognize her? But that didn't matter. So long as she wasn't like those monsters in town... she was still human enough to not be like them.

_And now you've got what you've wanted._

Nekane wasn't startled by the sudden stream of consciousness that wasn't her own, anymore.

"Master...?" She whispered under her breath.

_You've spent too long dilly dallying over theirs and yours. Now it's time for mine. As we've agreed for a veeerrry long time. You have your Rubra, and they have their Jack. Now, then..._

"Is... is there some other way I can do this...? I think... it's just not..."

_Oh ho, is my little flowery toy thinking individual humans have intrinsic value? Perhaps you know where else to get a little toy boat to make your way there..._

"...No... Don't worry, Master. I'd never refuse your bidding..."

Nekane spoke to Mackey suddenly, in her pleasant voice, "Mister Mackey, do you know anything about how the pacification is going, in Innsmouth?"

"Only bits and pieces. Seems to be going fine enough. The marines have gotten enough practice on how to deal with Innsmouth over the years, already."

"Is that so? What about the underwater city, though? Where all the... "hybridized fanatics" like to hole up at?"

"No need to consider that. We've had Devil's Reef and the city underneath torpedoed and bombed since the 1920s."

"Well, still, it's always best to be thorough. Their cities can go quite deep, I'm sure."

"What are you suggesting, Miss Springfield?"

"You have several ships at the harbor this time, right? Not just one cutter to command the seas, like back in the days."

"So I've heard."

"Could I join one of the ships so I can see if your underwater cities are truly well and sunk?"

Mackey seemed suspicious by this point, "And what would you want out of this extra voluntary work?"

"Oh, nothing. Just satisfaction of my curiosity."

_And make absolutely sure you satisfy me, too, flowering puppy. There must be another copy of the Book of Dagon there. I want it. It's the only thing of worth those tadpoles ever made..._

Mackey said he's consider it, and Nekane left it at that. There wasn't any stopping it after all. For the sake of the Baron she was aligned with, above all, she would take a ship to the reef, where there were cities deeper than those of the Deep Ones. She would scour them, searching. She would ride a boat full of sailors who would all die as she survived, as the waters teemed with those wretched fishy men. Such was her life, toyed between so many forces. But it came with her being alive.

Nekane watched the view change as her Humvee drove down into the valley, where she could see scattered fights between Order members and the military, while armored vehicles poured into the town. In the distance, several ships were docked.

Further into the distance was the source of the smell of Coral. Devil's Reef. Bombed, dynamited, and shelled many times in the past, but it could never erase the presence of creatures older than humanity. There, below Devil's Reef, were even darker, older things. There she would have to go.

She sighed, and fixed her flower in her hair.

The night would continue on, as Nekane journeyed on into the dark corners of the earth, where there would be only nightmares.

* * *

**Name: **Nekane Springfield

**Weapon of Choice:** Gateway to the Garden of Madness

**Favorite Flower:** Azalea

**Points of Interest:** Negi and Nagi Springfield's relative, Contract.

**Profession:** Servant of the Black Rose Baron


End file.
